Unification
by Gamebird
Summary: Post-TLJ. With the unlikely help of the Resistance, Armitage Hux is on the run from the ghost of Sidious, who has returned and needs to possess his body. The ensemble cast gets stranded on a remote planet. Only through teamwork will they escape and retake the Order from the clutches of Palpatine. Gingerpilot, Reylo, FinnRose. Not TROS-compliant. Completed story, will publish daily.
1. Pryde

[Pryde]

* * *

They popped out of hyperspace well above the plane of the Hosnian system with the intention of avoiding most of the accretion disk. Even so, alarms began to blare as debris impacted their shields immediately. It was a rough ride as they determined if the six ships of his small fleet could survive. Projections had been that they would, but you never knew such things for sure until it had happened.

They were fine.

Their mission was a simple one: destroy any military ships they found and discourage any civilian ones from lingering. Also, they were to assess the damage done by Starkiller Base and the general condition of the star system. Other than that, they were simply loitering, being a presence, making sure everyone knew the First Order owned this space now. As if the galaxy didn't already know that.

Pryde snorted softly to himself as he looked out the viewport. The First Order owned the entire galaxy. No one could stop them. Even now, Hux was taking his own fleet to D'Qar to wipe out the Rebels who had destroyed Starkiller Base. In a few hours, it would all be over.


	2. Sidious 1

[Sidious]

* * *

There! He saw them. Ships – ships with intelligent life aboard, thinking beings of a species he was familiar with. _Warships_. He drew himself together, coalescing as a thinking being himself. He'd been so long a part of the Force, years or even decades. But his power was such that he'd left a deep shadow across the galaxy. He was remembered and known, which made it easier to resume his old form.

He touched each ship in turn with his awareness, unsurprised to find the one directing them all to be on the largest vessel. He was mildly surprised to find the individual was not a complete stranger to him. Enric Pryde had been an associate of Brendol Hux and while that wasn't much of a connection, it was something of one. He'd take what he could get.

Speaking of which, he attempted to take Pryde. The man collapsed to the deck of the bridge, gasping and shaking as Sidious tried to fit himself into his brain and oust whatever irrelevant personality Enric possessed. He kept trying until they were in the medbay, with the droids just as confused by the readings as the chief medical officer.

Well. Apparently it wasn't enough of a connection. Sidious withdrew. He would have to find a better route to a physical manifestation. When Pryde had recovered enough to string thoughts together coherently, Sidious appeared to him and clarified who was now in control. Thoroughly convinced of his identity and legitimacy, Pryde acceded to his command with gratifying alacrity.

The next thing to do was understand what had transpired since Sidious had last walked as a mortal man. His luck was good. It seemed the same rift in the Force which had allowed him to manifest was involved in catapulting some Empire-like military government into control of the galaxy. It was an amusing synchronicity – he'd died in one rift in the Force, now he was reborn from another.

This 'First Order' was controlled by another master of the dark side. Sidious needed to learn more of that one before challenging him, but then Snoke conveniently died the very next day, succeeded by his apprentice Kylo Ren, who was understandably suspected of having assassinated him. That Ren was a Skywalker gave Sidious pause. He laid low and waited to see how that would stabilize.

The orders for the Allegiant fleet remained unchanged – monitor the system, deal with interlopers. Only a few called on Pryde for his input on Kylo Ren. It was easy to bow out of the High Command meeting where charges were brought against Ren. He was deposed that same day and escaped from custody hours later. It was almost predictable – it would have been a boring drama to watch from a distance, had something not come up which made Sidious _very_ invested in the proceedings.

That was the discovery that one of his clones, Brendol Hux, was believed to have produced a bastard son. That son was now, in the wake of Kylo Ren's ouster, in uncontested control of the entire First Order. It was the sort of perfect confluence of events that showed the hand of the Force moving through them all. Sidious knew Hux was his intended vessel. It was meant to be.


	3. Kylo 1

[Kylo]

* * *

He ran even though it made him feel queasy. It felt too much like the other times he'd left his old life behind – leaving his parents, leaving the burning temple … and now leaving the First Order. He knew he didn't _have_ to leave. He could go back, kill Hux and whatever other members of the High Command had advocated for his execution, and enforce his control over the Order by Force alone if he had to.

But his heart was still broken. His very soul felt broken. He wasn't where he needed to be. And it did not go unnoticed by him that his escape had been a simple matter. The guards had followed the standard protocol for non-Force users (not that they had one for Force users, but that Hux hadn't made a point of instituting one was the sort of egregious error the man wouldn't make accidentally). The ship he'd stolen had been primed and ready for him. If he hadn't trusted so much in the Force, he might have been suspicious. As it was, he assumed Hux wanted him gone more than he wanted him dead.

Not that it mattered. He would never be back, taking nothing with him but the clothes on his back and the wits in his head. He set course for Bespin in the Anoat sector. The baron administrator there had sent his personal congratulations on Kylo's ascension to supreme leader, along with an invitation to visit. Han, Snoke, and Luke – all dead in less than a week.

* * *

"First Order shuttle. Please identify yourself and state your purpose of visiting Cloud City."

Kylo answered easily. "Captain Mek Lorson. Vacation."

"Very well, sir. Have you visited Cloud City before?"

"No."

"Will you be needing orientation services or contact with the tourism bureau?"

"No."

"Can I direct you to-"

"No," he cut in irritably. "I need landing clearance. I'll be going to the Pair O' Dice casino. Find me there."

"Sir?"

"Anyone looking for me _can find me there_," he ground out.

"Yes sir. Landing pad Oh-Two-Seven, sir."

He rolled his eyes and set the ship down where directed.

* * *

Using telekinesis, he liberated a gaming token from where it had been lost between two machines. It was low denomination, hence being abandoned or unnoticed. He took it to the flip table, one of the most basic games with an easy 50/50 option designed to lure people in. Once there, they could be suckered into betting on patterns for the next three, five, or nine flips of the chance cube. He won four in a row, doubling his money each time, and left the table before his winnings looked statistically unlikely.

He repeated this at a few other tables, intentionally losing a few times as he racked his brain for his father's old lessons on how to spot a cheat, so he wouldn't stand out too much. It wasn't the sort of thing a mind-reading child had needed to pay attention to, but that hadn't kept Han from telling him all about it anyway. He'd never thought it would be useful.

He noticed when a sort of purposeful attention entered the establishment. He took a drink (they were free), bought a baked pastry (these cost tokens, of which he had plenty by now), and retired to a table along the wall where he could nibble the food, sip the drink, and watch the crowd more closely. Even though he knew he was being sought, it was still a surprise when the older man paused next to his table.

Lando scanned the room like he still hadn't found the person he was looking for. He wasn't even facing Kylo. Casually, the older man said, "You wouldn't happen to know where I could find 'Mek Lorson', do you?" At that, his eyes finally turned to Kylo's.

"Have a seat."

The table Kylo had chosen was a small, circular one with a half-circle of plush seating around it. Three people could crowd onto the curved bench if they were friendly, although the tiny table in the center wouldn't be large enough for more than two plates. It had a good view of the room, which was why Kylo had picked it. Lando slid in. Kylo moved to the opposite side of the table.

Lando studied him, eyes lingering on the scar, then going to the undertunic Kylo had opted to wear. It was informal even for a casino, but acceptable. Barely. His formal tunic and cloak had been left in the shuttle. Lando looked to his eyes. "It's been a long time since I've seen old Mek. I heard he passed on. Died on some planet, Ilum, I think it used to be."

"Starkiller Base," Kylo said quietly. He didn't sense anger from Lando at the subject of Han's death - sadness and acceptance instead.

"Yeah, that's what they started calling it recently. What about you? What are they calling _you_ recently?"

"I'm calling myself Kylo."

"Kylo Ren?"

"No. That was never my name. It was a title. It doesn't apply now. The Order of Ren has been disbanded."

"Seemed to be there was another title that applied. I saw a transmission …" He waved generally, maybe at the screens set near the ceiling on the other side of the room.

Kylo sensed there were a few people who'd come in with Lando. They were still back in the crowd, but watching the two of them. The hand wave drew their attention, but it wasn't the sort of signal they were waiting to react to. So Lando was being cautious – not surprising. Kylo said, "That title doesn't apply, either."

"Are you in trouble?" Lando leaned forward a little. The expression on his face matched the emotion Kylo felt surge from him. It was compassion and concern, without any of the resentment, anger, or vengefulness he'd expected. Especially with Kylo having used one of Han's old smuggling aliases and Lando having recognized it, especially with him making it clear he knew of Han's death and probably the circumstances of it.

Kylo hadn't expected help. He'd come here hoping for it – just a sliver of a hope, but mostly he'd assumed he'd have to threaten and blackmail and extort to get what he needed. And if absolutely necessary, he'd just take what he needed by force.

"No." Kylo shook his head too fast, cheeks shaking a little, lips too loose. He suspected he looked guilty.

Lando shrugged, feigning indifference. He didn't believe Kylo. "We all get in trouble one time or another. Maybe you just got out of it, hm?" Kylo took this opportunity to eat the last half of his pastry to keep himself from saying anything stupid. "I appreciate you coming here," Lando said seriously. "I didn't know anything until a week ago, when I heard about the funeral."

"Funeral?" he asked around crumbs.

"Han's. Your father's."

Kylo nodded. Yes, that was stupid. He should have kept his mouth shut. Of course there would have been one, even without a body. They would have had an observance. He drew in a deep breath and blew it out. He had not … observed … anything. There had been no time. And Snoke would have sensed it if he'd let himself feel for him. He was blinking. His eyes were wet. He wiped at them, reflexively angry that this might be seen as weakness.

He glared at Lando, who raised both hands a little in surrender. Lando's people sharpened their attention again, then relaxed. Obviously, there was some hand signal they'd been told to respond to, but Lando wasn't making the 'come bail me out' signal. "I heard about it," Lando said. "And I _still _didn't know Kylo Ren was you. Not until the announcement about the new supreme leader. It came with a holo. I hadn't seen you since you were a kid, but I still knew. Right away. You got my message?"

Kylo washed down the last of his snack with most of his drink. "I got it. That's not why I'm here. You said you still didn't know that was me. They didn't tell you? They never told you?"

The look Lando gave him was hard to read, but his emotions were clearer in the Force – resentment, and not directed at Kylo. Lando shook his head. So Han and Leia had never shared with Lando Calrissian that his godson had joined the First Order.

It was strange to try to imagine events from Lando's point of view. Easier just to ask. "What … what did you think … happened?"

"I thought you went into hiding. Everyone knew Luke and Leia were twins. So if she was Darth Vader's daughter, then Luke was his son. I assumed all the students were pulled from his temple." Lando leaned back and made a one-handed gesture. "Just imagine, your kid has the Force, you send them off to Jedi school, and then you find out they're being trained by the son of Vader? It wouldn't bother me, but I'm not so out of touch I don't know how a lot of people would react. He wasn't going to have a school after that."

"The temple was burned. There were … people dead."

Lando shook his head. "You hear a lot of things on the news. Maybe an angry parent, angry student, something? But you asked me what I thought and not a 'maybe this, maybe that'. I thought all that was staged so you and Luke could lay low. Han went back to smuggling about the same time. I thought that was another cover – him wandering around a lot, visiting you guys. Seemed like the best thing I could do for you was not ask too many questions."

Kylo snorted a laugh that he couldn't contain any longer at this ridiculous fabrication. It was so far from the truth. The furthest was the idea that Han had taken up smuggling to protect him. "My father never c-" He'd almost said 'cared', but that wasn't true and he knew it. He fell back on what _was_ true: "He never came to see me until he showed up to blow up the entire planet I was on. He didn't even tell me what he was there for when I caught up with him." He swallowed roughly. His eyes were wet again. He wiped at them without reticence this time.

"I thought he'd given up that Rebellion stuff," Lando said after a long pause.

Kylo shook his head. "He-" He couldn't explain about Rey and how she'd been involved in getting Han to change his mind. It was too painful a topic. "He found a droid that had a map to where Luke was. He took it to my mother. Then he showed up to destroy Starkiller Base."

Lando sucked at his teeth. "Right after it blew up the Hosnian system." Kylo made a sulking expression. Lando had a different take on it, though, and said, "You know, blowing up entire planets is the sort of thing that would get Leia pretty motivated, given Alderaan."

"It wasn't my decision."

"Yeah, I wonder – was it Han's?"

"What?"

"Was it Han's decision to go there? Or was it hers?"

"Are you implying my mother used the Force on my father?"

Lando shrugged. "'Maybe this, maybe that'. I don't know anything, except how fierce she can be when she feels it's needed. He always said he didn't understand why he changed his mind to help Luke with the Death Star."

Kylo's brows drew together. There were a lot of things he remembered Han had claimed to not understand about his own decision-making. Kylo had always imagined his parents as responsible, culpable adults – not as people lashing out over past traumas or swayed by the persuasive Force of others. Were they just like him in that regard?

Lando went on, "Now, you said you weren't here because of that message I sent you. Why _are_ you here then? Do you need something?" His tone made it clear that was an offer, not an accusation.

Kylo felt his shoulders slump of their own volition. It was hard to keep up his defenses in the face of genuine concern, despite how strange it felt to have that directed at him. "I need to find her." He couldn't admit he meant Rey and not his mother. But he knew Rey would be with her and Lando would accept re-uniting the family where he might not be keen to stalk someone who didn't want to see Kylo ever again.

"You have the whole First Order looking for her."

"I'm not in the First Order anymore."

"You're not?" Lando looked over at the screens he'd waved at earlier. They showed an Ithorian and Sullustan chatting, too far away to make out the closed captioning or hear the audio.

"I'm not." Obviously, news hadn't reached here yet. Either Hux had some other issues to handle in the wake of Kylo's escape or he was going to make a big, showy announcement that took time to arrange. "I was deposed for the assassination of Snoke."

"Oh. They didn't mention that in your coronation announcement." It wasn't a coronation, but Kylo didn't argue it. Lando asked, "Was it true?"

"Was what true?"

"Did you kill him?"

"Yes."

"Good for you." Lando laughed. He flagged down a passing staff member and gestured at Kylo's drink. "Deposed, huh? I suppose they're looking for you."

"No." He wasn't sure how he was certain, but he was.

"Was that your sentence? Exile or something? Doesn't seem the First Order's speed."

"It's not. But I know the one in charge now. He's not going to … let himself be distracted by personal issues like chasing me down."

"Okay." Lando was quiet – brimming with questions, but not voicing any of them. The staff member refilled Kylo's drink. Lando waved him away without ordering anything himself. Kylo drank slowly, finding it strange to be in the company of someone he wasn't constantly on guard against. He told himself he didn't trust Lando, but he kept thinking of his father walking up to him on that catwalk. If that wasn't trust, then what was?


	4. Lando 1

[Lando]

* * *

"Hello?" Leia's voice was cautious and tired on the other end of the transmission.

"Heeyyy, Princess," Lando drawled happily. "I got through to you. Good!"

"How did you manage that?"

He grinned. "The _Falcon_ isn't going to turn down my signal. How are you? I heard there was trouble. This is a secure line, by the way."

"There _was_ trouble," she said grimly. Then, in as vulnerable a voice as he'd ever heard from her, she asked, "Where were you?"

He sighed and wiped at his face. "Leia, it's been years." More than a decade, actually. "To tell the truth, I was asleep and my staff had their standard orders not to wake me up for anything short of a city disaster. I never thought I needed to carve out exceptions for disasters anywhere else in the galaxy." What would he have done if he'd been awake? He wasn't sure. Probably not much else. He'd never been suicidal. "I'm sorry."

He heard her sigh. "We lost Luke," she said finally.

"We did?"

"Yes."

"I'm so sorry about that, too."

"I- yes."

"I've heard a story," he said slowly to fill the silence, "that Luke faced down a score of walkers, let ordinance and lasers pass right through him, and then fought the knight Kylo Ren to a standstill before teleporting away from the battlefield. How much of that is true?"

He heard her wry chuckle. "Most of it."

"Really? Then … how did we lose him?"

"He did too much."

"You can … do that?"

"I asked him years ago – I think we were still on Endor – why he couldn't just have pulled the Death Star out of the sky. Or if Palpatine was mind-controlling everyone in the Imperial Armed Forces. He said there were limits to how much of the Force you could channel without becoming the Force yourself. He said we were all 'luminous beings' and the more we used the Force the less real we were, the less a part of this world and the more a part of … another world."

"He said that? Han always told me Luke was some farm boy from Tatooine."

"He … well, some of that probably came from Yoda. But Luke was the one who told me."

"Oh." He had to assume she meant the Jedi Master Yoda, who was no more to Lando than a name from a few stories and maybe a history class a long time ago. "So Luke used too much of the Force?"

"Yes. He died so we could escape. And survive to fight another day. But you didn't call me to ask about Luke."

"No. That Kylo Ren I mentioned – he got kicked out of the First Order. You never told me who he was."

"Lando, a secret doesn't keep if everyone knows it. You know that. And yes, I've heard the news."

She hadn't even paused. Not a moment of hesitation. It rankled Lando. "Do you know what happened to him?"

This time there was a silence and then a deep exhalation. _Guilt_, Lando thought. She said, "Tell me."

"He came here to Cloud City to see me."

"He's there?" He couldn't tell if she was alarmed or pleased. "Is he _still_ there?"

"Yes."

"What is he doing?" Lando hoped that was the concern of a long-estranged parent and not the cunning of an old general.

"Well, right now I think he's finishing up a few laps in the VIP swimming pool. I think he said later he'd zero in a blaster I'd set aside for him so many years ago." He let that trail off, then paused for a moment. She didn't say anything, so he added, "He wants to see you."

"Why?" Her voice had turned hard.

"Because you're his _mother_." It was quiet long enough that he said, "If he's not welcome, tell me. I'll break it to him. I agreed to be his godfather. There's nothing that's happened that changes that. And I think I know most of what's happened."

"No. He's … he's welcome. I just … I didn't think he'd …"

"He has. Tell me where you'd like to meet and I'll bring him to you." He hoped like hell he was reading her right.


	5. Kylo 2

[Kylo]

* * *

Kylo came down the ramp first, head up, stride certain. He was dressed in Cloud City finery, picked out by Lando's own tailor. The rich cloth fit him well – a silver grey windbreaker with a tail that graced the back of his knees, open in the front to show the light blue shirt and faded purple slacks with the black belt and boots he'd worn in the First Order. Others had been offered, but he'd declined.

He stopped a few paces from the ramp, which also put him a few paces away from the one who'd come closest to the ship as it set down – Rey. Her outfit was somewhat changed. The base layer was the same, but she wore the beige button-up shirt of the Resistance, open in the front, and the drab gold pants. She, too, still had her desert boots and belt. There was no lightsaber there, but she had Han's old blaster. Kylo had Lando's, though it was obscured on his hip by the windbreaker.

He could feel the crackling tension between them, intensified by their awareness of one another. Behind Rey stood three others – the pilot Poe Dameron that he'd interrogated over Jakku, FN-2187 the defected stormtrooper, and a smaller woman he didn't recognize. He dismissed them. Rey was more important. He let his eyes rake her from top to bottom, open and aggressive in his interest in a way he hadn't been able to express before.

She cocked her head back and settled her weight in a challenging pose. She looked him up and down just the same. The desire he'd felt underlining their Force bond moments was stronger in the flesh and she wasn't as retiring as she'd been before. He was relieved. That last moment on Crait had felt like the end – the end of everything. But she wasn't rebuffing him now. He felt like he was floating.

"I don't like the way he's looking at her," grumbled Dameron.

"Neither do I," FN-2187 responded.

Both of them started to move forward, but were halted by the smaller woman. "Stop it." She sounded exasperated.

"What?" Poe said.

"Don't you see?" she said.

Kylo smirked slightly at Rey. The corners of her eyes wrinkled. He could feel her amusement. It warmed his chest. His heart was thumping hard and fast. And that was when Lando ambled out of the ship, walking past him, Rey, and the others toward a group that had come up behind them. Kylo had completely missed them – eyes only for Rey – but he saw now that was his mother, Chewbacca, and a couple others he didn't recognize.

Chewbacca made a sound of recognition. Kylo hoped it was directed to Lando, but with the way the Wookiee was striding forward, it didn't seem to be. Last time Kylo had interacted with Chewie, he'd taken a bolt to his gut from that bow-caster he used. Fortunately, it wasn't in Chewie's hand (although it was still strapped to his back).

Rey stepped to the side as Chewie barged through. Kylo suppressed the urge to fall back. He'd stood before Snoke. He'd stood before Han. He'd stood before Luke. He wasn't a coward. If he was going to die ripped limb from limb by his father's partner, then so be it.


	6. Finn 1

[Finn]

* * *

Finn flinched when it started, but it was soon evident that Kylo Ren was not being torn apart by Chewbacca. Next to him, Poe gave an unimpressed grunt. Guessing it was about the continuing stream of Wookiee noises, Finn asked, "What's he saying?"

"Um … you killed Han. I was upset. I shot you. I shouldn't have. I'm so glad you're alive. Do you forgive me?"

"What?" Finn said in alarm and surprise. He looked at the two in disbelief. "He's- He doesn't- Why is _Chewbacca_ apologizing?" Kylo was saying something in response, but it was lost in fur and mumbling.

Poe shrugged, sighed, and gave Finn a bemused look, like he didn't understand it either. "The personal honor of Wookiees is legendary. I guess trying to kill your life debt holder's kids is off-limits."

"Yeah, but … he'd _just _killed Han Solo."

"All I can do is translate. I can't read minds. That's his specialty," Poe said sourly, hooking a thumb toward Kylo, who was now being held at arm's length as Chewbacca said more things. They weren't angry things.

Off to the side, Generals Calrissian and Organa had embraced and exchanged words of their own. General Organa approached Kylo and Chewbacca slowly. Calrissian walked behind her, his eyes flicking over everyone in turn while he kept a wide smile on his face.

"Yes, I will," Kylo told Chewbacca, then cut his eyes in the direction of his mother. Chewbacca turned, looked between the two, and wandered over to greet Calrissian. It left Kylo and Organa facing one another silently for a long spell. Poe started to move, but this time it was Finn that stopped him. Sometimes, the best thing a person could do was stand at attention and wait. That was what Rose and Rey were doing.

Eventually, finally, Organa said softly, "Ben."

Kylo shook his head slowly, otherwise not moving an inch. "I go by Kylo now."

"I gave you that name." Her voice was slow, careful, and Finn had to say, somewhat menacing. _He_ sure didn't want to be downrange of it. It wasn't like he was ever going to call or even think of her as anything other than 'General Organa' or 'Organa'.

Kylo answered back too fast, belying his tension. "You can have it back. I don't need it anymore." His words were precise and clipped. There was so much tension in the air it was stifling. Even Chewbacca and Calrissian had stopped talking to watch.

General Organa smiled a little, bitter and regretful. "Thank you for that, but I don't have any other children to give it to. Only you."

Kylo moved his head in a half-nod. Rey shifted, but didn't end up moving. Poe shifted more and again Finn pressed his hand to Poe's arm to keep him from doing anything. Rose was still.

As diplomatic as the royalty Finn had been told she was, Organa said, "Will you stay with us for a while, Kylo? It's been a long time since I've seen Lando and I'd like to get to know you."

Kylo breathed out heavily. His hands moved uneasily, but the high voltage tension of the situation was already defusing. "Yes. Yes, I would like that."

Organa jogged her head toward the entrance to the base and said, "Then come on, everyone. Let's go somewhere a little more comfortable, where we can talk."


	7. Poe 1

[Poe]

* * *

They settled in around the table in the half-furnished ready room – Kylo, Leia, Lando, and Chewbacca. Kaydel bustled after refreshments. Finn, Rose, and Rey started to head out the other exit to the room, probably imagining this was a private discussion between old friends and family. Poe didn't budge, not even when Finn tugged on his sleeve and said, "Come on."

Leia cut in to say, "Rey? Join us, would you?" Rey moved back into the room.

Poe shook his head a little at Finn. "You go ahead. I'm staying."

"She didn't mention you," Finn pointed out unnecessarily.

"Yeah, I know." Poe turned back to see his delay had cost him. Rey had claimed the chair next to Chewbacca, leaving exactly one empty seat – the one next to Kylo. Poe blew out a breath and sauntered over like that was precisely where he wanted to sit. The door shut behind Finn and Rose.

There was an awkward beat around the table as he sat. Poe assumed Leia was weighing her options for disinviting him. He turned to Kylo and extended a hand. "Poe Dameron."

"Kylo. I remember you." He shook the hand, his own wearing the gloves that seemed standard for upper-level First Order uniforms.

"Yeah," Poe said, "I remember you, too." And not fondly. "Are you on our side now?"

There was a long pause as Kylo looked around the table. At his mother. At the man he'd showed up with, General Calrissian, whom he obviously trusted. At Chewbacca, who'd already settled things with him. At Rey, whom Kylo had been making eyes at earlier. Not a one of them was his enemy, or should be. Lastly, his gaze settled on Poe, who was the only person in the room he didn't have a personal stake in and thus, oddly, the only one who could ask him a question like that.

"Yes," Kylo said.

Poe nodded. "Glad to hear it. Welcome." He leaned back in his chair, trying to mentally rearrange Kylo from 'enemy' to 'friend' or at least 'ally'. It was a harder transition than it had been with Finn, but he figured he'd get the hang of it.

Kaydel came to the table with a pitcher of water and a tray of glasses, setting both between Chewbacca and Rey. As she went back to get a similar pitcher of erdel juice, Rey took a glass, then Chewbacca did. He passed the tray to Lando, who did the same, and the tray circled the table, with Poe getting the last one. By then Chewbacca had poured himself water and Kaydel had dropped off the juice. Kaydel left the room.

Lando, Leia and Rey took juice. The rest of them had water. The water here was good – not mineral-heavy or salted. Poe downed a third of his glass and waited for the conversation to begin.


	8. Rey 1

[Rey]

* * *

"So," Rey began when the silence began to get awkward. "There are a few things I should clear up. After, um, after I finished my training with Luke – Master Luke."

"Just Luke," Kylo said quietly, but it carried.

"I'll call him what I want," Rey said to him. He glanced away at the rebuke, but it wasn't like she didn't understand his objection. "Anyway, with _Master_ Luke, I didn't come to Crait. Not directly. I went to … I went to the _Supremacy_."

Chewbacca whuffed affirmatively and leaned back in his seat. He, too, had been keeping this secret.

"You," Poe asked, "… _you_ went to the _Supremacy_? Not just Finn and Rose's group?"

"Yes," she said. "I wanted to talk to Ben- Kylo?" She looked to him in uncertainty. She knew the name that resonated within him, but if he wanted to be called differently then she would.

"Kylo," he answered.

"I wanted to talk to Kylo."

Poe rubbed his forehead and said nothing.

Rey continued. "I was taken to Snoke. And Kylo killed him, defending me."

"Defending you?" Poe said. Everyone else around the table was quiet. Chewie and Kylo knew the story. She wasn't sure what Kylo had told Lando, but he didn't look surprised. Neither did Leia, come to think of it.

"He saved my life." Rey turned to Leia and Lando. "Did you both already know this?"

Leia said, "I suspected."

Lando put his hands out, palms up. "It's all new to me. I know enough about the Solos that I didn't ask questions." Kylo gave him a side-eye to dispute that. Lando said, "Okay, I didn't ask _many_ questions. Certainly not all the questions I wanted to ask."

"And," Poe asked, "what happened after that?"

She shot Kylo a look. That had been … a complicated moment, and not one she wanted to deal with right now. "I left. I transferred to the Falcon and by the time we were leveled out again, there were drop-ships coming down on Crait. We waited to see what would happen. Once we saw there was a battle, we were inbound."

Poe nodded. "Yeah, I think we all know what happened after that."

Kylo gave Poe a look that wasn't entirely friendly. Poe either didn't notice it or was unfazed by it. Lando said, "I don't."

Poe rolled his eyes. "The _Falcon_ drew off the TIE fighters and later evacuated the rest of us off the planet." Lando nodded, curiosity satisfied.

Rey felt Kylo relax almost palpably and she realized, or assumed, that he didn't want his showdown with Luke broadcast to everyone. She wondered if Poe knew that, had made a lucky guess as a fellow ego-centric personality, or was just skipping over it coincidentally. She didn't catch the expression Poe sent Kylo's way, but she felt his tension ease even further. Poe knew. And Kylo knew he wasn't surrounded by enemies.

Poe said to Kylo, "So the grounds for deposition we heard on the holos actually are true. You did kill him - Snoke." Kylo shrugged. Poe went on, "We assumed he was killed when the _Raddus_ hit the _Supremacy_." He turned to Rey. "You didn't correct us."

She sighed. "It didn't matter."

Poe asked, "It didn't matter that the then-current supreme leader of the First Order had saved your life, and you had … like, the highest form of blackmail material on him?" She didn't answer. Poe smiled at her a little. He knew. Somehow. Was she being so transparent about her feelings? She felt her cheeks flush.

"What are you implying?" Kylo growled.

Poe leaned back, hands raised in surrender. "I'm implying there's still a gap in the who-did-what-and-why thing. Though I think the answer's pretty clear on that. I was just hoping someone would _say_ it."

Rey said defensively, "I spoke to Luke about him. I know what happened between them! That's how I- why I had to go speak with him," she gestured at Kylo, "to explain that I knew the truth." Poe looked utterly unconvinced.

"The truth about what?" Leia asked. She'd stayed silent as she let Poe ask questions for her. It was a familiar enough routine that Rey suspected it was standard between them.

Rey waited a beat, stealing a glance at Kylo, who wasn't stopping her, nor was he any more tense than usual. He was resigned, maybe. Or stoic about it. There was a lot going on around the table as far as the swirling eddies of emotion in the Force, enough that it was tough to keep track of all of it. "The truth about the night the Jedi temple burned. Luke had gone to Ben's hut to … to better understand the darkness he was sensing from him. And its presence moved him to ignite his lightsaber and consider …"

Leia's eyes hardened. "Consider what?"

Rey swallowed. "Consider … killing Ben."

"What?" Poe said, but no one paid him any attention. Rey's eyes were locked with Leia's.

"Luke," Leia said, "was going to kill … Ben?" She glanced at Kylo, then back to Rey. "Ben was attacking him? Threatening him?"

Kylo stifled a single laugh. Rey could feel a sort of maniacal glee bubbling up in him, along with a dark satisfaction.

Rey shook her head. "Ben was asleep."

Lando said, "Wait, let me get this straight. Luke goes to his hut. At night. He's asleep." Lando gestured at Kylo. "And Luke ignites his lightsaber to kill him … in his sleep? Luke Skywalker?" Rey nodded. "Had they had a fight that day? An argument?" He turned to Kylo. "What happened?"

Kylo said, "The news that Leia was Darth Vader's daughter had broken that morning."

Lando leaned back. "Oh. Oh yeah. That answers everything."

Kylo said furiously, "It doesn't answer why he decided to kill me, in my sleep or otherwise!"

Lando bucked up. "I didn't say it did! He of all people should have known not to go jumping at shadows after something like that happened. Dark forces conspired to make that public. Did he think it was limited to her?" He gestured to Leia. "No. He should have known or at least wondered if he was as much a target as she was. And you a target as well."

Leia said quietly, "I have to wonder if he _was_ the target."

Chewbacca said the same people who would want the New Republic to fail would also need the Jedi gone. Lando nodded. "Without the Jedi Academy, no more Jedi."

"_Luke_ tried to kill you?" This was from Leia, who had turned to Kylo. It was like she needed to hear it again, from him directly.

"Yes," Kylo said emphatically.

Rey said, "He was … He considered it."

"He tried," Kylo insisted.

"He lit the saber and immediately regretted it," Rey said. "He regretted it so much he hid himself on Ach-to and cut himself off from the Force entirely, for years, until I went there and … when he refused to help me, I went to the _Supremacy_ myself. Because Ben wasn't- Kylo wasn't … in the wrong. Not in what he'd seen that night. Not in the conclusions he'd reached based on what he knew. He didn't know how Luke felt about it or what Luke intended. He only knew what he saw and what he saw was his master about to kill him. Even Luke admitted that to me!"

She was quiet then. The door opened and Kaydel came in, bearing a glass bottle sheathed in decorated metal cladding about two-thirds of the way up. "This was all I could find on short notice." A stony silence met her. Leia made a gesture for her to bring the bottle to her.

When she set it down, Leia said, "Thank you."

"Of course." Kaydel left quickly.

Leia said to Lando, "I asked her to get us water, juice, and something stronger if she could find it."

"I could do with stronger," Lando said. "Put it right in the rest of my juice."

"You don't even know what it is." Leia poured it anyway. Her own glass was empty. She filled it halfway with a pale yellow liquid.

By then Lando had sampled it. He took the bottle from her and sniffed the opening. "Whiskey. Or any of thousands of similar. Probably jet juice or hooch, especially with that bottle." Rey knew what he meant was that it was a reusable bottle and therefore likely not the one it was originally sold in – if it had ever been sold at all.

"Hm," Leia hummed. She took a sip, grimaced, and made a wave around the table and a gesture at the bottle, asking if anyone else wanted some. No one did.

Lando asked Kylo, "So what happened after all that? You wake up, there he is, saber lit. Didn't he explain himself?"

"I summoned my own saber to me, lit it, and struck at him to distract him," Kylo said. "Then I pulled down the stone ceiling and buried both of us. But … myself … less than him. I was able to drag myself out. I knew he wasn't dead, but … I left."

"What happened with the other students?" Leia asked.

"We fought," Kylo said. "Some died. Some left with me. With Luke and Snoke both dead, they're finally free. So am I."

"This was a wild ride of a story," Poe said quietly.

Leia gave him a long look. "This needs to remain private."

"It will."

Kylo glanced between his mother and Poe, but didn't say anything. Rey sipped at her juice, having forgotten about it until just now. Her drinking prompted everyone else to do the same.

"Does anyone know this in the First Order?" Leia asked.

Kylo shook his head. "The Knights of Ren, but they've left the Order. Hux knows pieces. As do a few in Intelligence. They had to, to know what to listen for." His voice slowed. "But most of the Skywalker-Solo dirty laundry has been kept suitably secret."

"That's not what I was asking," Leia said irritably.

"It isn't?" Kylo asked. He sipped his water.

She gave him a baleful eye. "Were you followed here?"

"No."

Poe said, "Those First Order ships always come with a tracker."

Lando said, "I disabled it."

"After it reached Cloud City," Leia said. Lando shrugged.

"They didn't follow me," Kylo insisted.

"Why not?" Poe asked.

"If I could walk out of their prison on a star destroyer and steal a ship, then what are they going to do about me out here, where I can see them coming and pick my terms of engagement? Hux isn't going to throw away his people's lives just to annoy me. None of them will."

"You can see them coming?" Leia asked.

"Through the Force."

"Could you tell if the First Order had discovered us and was coming for us?"

"Perhaps."

"Probably," Rey said. He frowned at her.

Kylo said, "It would require meditation. And don't expect precision."

Leia nodded. "Will you do that for us?"

"Do you ask it of me?" Kylo asked, raising his chin.

Leia waited a beat, then said thoughtfully, "I do." She paused again, then added with difficulty, "Please."

"I will," he said in a subdued tone. He dropped his head, the posturing suddenly uncomfortable.

Leia turned to Lando, drawing attention away from Kylo. "How long were you planning on staying?"

He shrugged. "I have a good staff in place on Bespin. I can stay here as long as it doesn't get boring."

"That might be a long time," she said. "Around here, it never gets boring."

He chuckled. "Then maybe you can show me to whoever brewed your hooch. I could tell them a thing or two. Might make the time pass easier."

Leia said, "I pretend I don't know, but you should check the distillery tucked in behind the fuel lines at the west end of the hangar."

Poe winced. "Um, yeah. I, uh, don't know anything about that either, but I can introduce you to someone who might."

Leia said, "You may as well settle in. Both of you." She turned a lingering eye on Kylo. "We have some rooms we can offer."

Rey stood. "I could show you." She didn't miss how Poe smirked. Kylo rose smoothly, looking at her with anticipation.

"No," Leia said.

"What?" Rey asked.

"Poe can show them where we have some space," Leia said. "I want to talk with you."


	9. Leia 1

[Leia]

* * *

"So," Leia said once the door was shut and it was just her and Rey. Even Chewbacca had been sent out. "What other secrets are you keeping?"

"Erm. Nothing. No secrets."

Leia blinked a few times. She studied her drink, considering strengthening it a bit more and knocking it back. But no. She needed her wits for dealing with this young woman. She rose and moved to a seat next to Rey. Gently, she said, "I know you're lying."

"I'm not!"

Just as gently, she repeated, "I know you are." Rey was silent. Leia went on, "You went to the island to get Luke. You said he trained you. And he told you things that had wounded him so deeply he hid himself away from the entire galaxy, including me. I'd suspected it was something like this, especially after I realized who Kylo Ren really was. Why would he tell you that, though?"

"I … I asked … I tried to get him to come back. He wouldn't. So I thought if he would at least train me, maybe … maybe I could help."

"You did help. You saved us on Crait. But you're still not answering the question."

"There's no answer," she said too quickly.

Leia tried a different tact. "My son seems very taken with you." Rey swallowed hard. "How do you feel about that?"

"What?" Rey said faintly.

"You heard me."

"I should … be somewhere else." Rey made to rise.

Leia laid a hand briefly on Rey's forearm. "No. You should be here, giving me some answers. If you hated him, you'd say so. If you were afraid of him, same. If you were indifferent, you'd tell me. That really only leaves that you care for him, too, which changes the reason you left Ach-To and went to him. And maybe that's the reason why he came here – to see you and not me. I saw how he was looking at you when he came off that ship."

Rey swallowed again and sank down in the chair. "He … There … There's … something … between us."

"Go on."

"A … a bond … in the Force. Like, like what you had with Luke? I think?"

Leia nodded slowly. "Did he … do this to you?"

"What? No!" Rey animated suddenly as she realized the implication of Leia's question (more like an accusation). She rallied to Kylo's defense without hesitation. "He did not! Snoke did it! Snoke _said_ he did and Kylo knew nothing of it!"

"Why would Snok- Snoke wanted both of you," Leia said in realization.

"What?" Rey asked.

"Snoke wanted both of you as apprentices. Or at least having both of you kept you out of the hands of the Resistance." He wanted anyone who was young and impressionable, while at the same time wanting to destroy anyone who wasn't, like Luke. Or perhaps even herself.

"He wanted me _dead_! He tried to _kill_ me," Rey spoke with anger seething up inside her, finding release after too long of keeping this part secret and silent within her. Leia was glad to see it – finally, Rey was opening up. "He … violated every part of my mind and being. He took-" She shook her head, her whole body shaking. "And when he was done, he threw me in front of Kylo Ren and _ordered_ him to murder me. He knew we were bonded and he knew what that would do to … Ben." She wiped at her eyes furiously.

Leia put a calming hand on her shoulder. Everything was making sense now. "And Ben didn't do it."

Rey shook her head. "No. He didn't. He killed Snoke instead." She let out a shuddering breath. "But then he wouldn't make them stop firing on … on you. On the fleet. The Resistance. So he and I … fought. We ended up struggling over the lightsaber you saw me with."

"The broken one."

Rey nodded, swallowing again. "We tore it apart. It happened just as the ship was hit by the _Raddus_. I woke up first. And I ran. I didn't know what else to do. Chewbacca … helped." She sighed. "And then we went to Crait." Rey put a sloppy, fake smile on her face. "And I smiled. Again."

Leia hugged her. Rey leaned into her heavily. "Was Luke the one who told you why he was on the island?" Or had Rey figured it out for herself?

"Sort of," Rey said, still embracing her. "He told me one version that made him sound entirely in the right. But then Ben told me how it had seemed to him. So I confronted Luke." She pulled away, lips pressed together tightly for a moment.

Rey said, "And Master Luke finally told me the truth. Which is what I told everyone here, today. But he wouldn't come with me to the _Supremacy,_ so I went alone. I'd … had a vision – that Ben Solo would turn to the light if someone came for him. And he did. Sort of." Rey smiled again and this time it was genuine instead of the fake one she so often wore.

"How did Ben tell you his version?"

"Oh." Rey looked so flummoxed that Leia laughed. "I … shouldn't have mentioned that part." Leia raised her brows, calling Rey out on it until Rey finally crumbled and said, "Through the Force bond. We can talk sometimes."

That introduced so many questions – could they sense where the other was, when they were in trouble, could they talk to one another as needed? But Rey didn't owe her answers so Leia only asked, "Do you trust him?"

"Yes." Rey said it without reservation or hesitation. But then she turned it around: "Do you?"

Leia sighed. "I haven't seen him in years. And I can't say I saw him very often even before that. But on behalf of the Resistance and the galaxy we're trying to protect, I'll play his game and beg if I need to."

Rey's brows drew together. Seriously, she asked, "What about on _your_ behalf?"

Leia was quiet. It was just like Lando's answer to why Ben might want to see her. She finally admitted, "I don't know that I deserve him."

"Your son?"

"There was a time when I told Mon Mothma that I would burn down the whole galaxy if I thought it was right." She paused. "In the meantime, I've burned down more than my share of the galaxy and as much as I want to say it was right … was it?" Rey didn't answer. Leia continued, "I've wronged Ben. Kylo, if he wants to be called that. And that's a big sign there, isn't it? He's trying to say he's not my son."

"That's- It might not- You don't know that."

Leia gave Rey a knowing look. Because she did know that. They both knew that. Rey winced. Leia patted her forearm and took pity on the girl by saying, "I have a lot to think about. Thank you for what you've told me."

Rey nodded and pulled away. If she had other secrets (and Leia had no doubts that she did), she wasn't volunteering them.


	10. Rey 2

[Rey]

* * *

Rey waited until after breakfast the next day to approach Kylo. If he knew why she was keeping her distance, he didn't indicate it, but he hadn't pursued her, either. He'd stayed where he was put, accompanied Lando around the base, and according to Poe, showed a lot of interest in the few ships they'd managed to cobble together in the wake of Crait. The problem was _she_ didn't know why she was keeping her distance. So she confronted him.

She caught him returning to the quarters he'd been assigned, carrying a set of linens. They saw each other at opposite ends of the hallway. Lando, who was following behind him, said, "Oh, hey, I think I forgot to get some shaving cream. I'll be back in a little while." He about-faced and left.

Rey felt her face heat at how fast Lando had bailed. Kylo fairly swaggered her way, which was ridiculous. She told him in a superior manner, "There's no one else to see you but me."

He smirked. "Exactly."

She rolled her eyes and tried to ignore the way her heart was thudding. "You said you were going to do some meditation to try to see the future?"

"Is that why you're here, to see me meditate?"

"Of course. There's no other reason!" He was too close to her, or rather, it felt like he was too close and yet he stopped a few paces away. It was a reasonable distance. She wanted to object to it anyway.

"No other reason," he said softly. The smirk was gone. "Of course."

She swallowed. "Right."

His swagger faded and she was damned but she regretted seeing it gone. He told her, "I said I would see if the First Order was planning to attack this place."

"Yes. That's the future. Right?" Her words sounded too harsh to her ears. She found herself angry all over that she was obsessing on every little thing they both did. She gritted her teeth.

He tilted his head, regarding her quietly.

"What difference does it make?" she asked. "If it's the future or what the First Order is going to do?"

He shrugged. "It helps to have a target. Otherwise, you can get distracted seeing things the Force thinks you need to see."

"Well, aren't those things you'd _need_ to see?"

"Not necessarily. The Force doesn't choose your future for you. _You_ do." He opened the door to his quarters and walked in. She followed him without thinking. She glanced around. It was a personal space. On Jakku, she would have never just walked into someone's sleeping area, not without permission. But here she was. He glanced over his shoulder at her. His smirk was softer this time, almost a smile. "How far are you willing to follow me?"

"How far do I need to?"

"I'm not running from you."

"You should!"

He raised his brows and half-smiled. His voice was deeper when he asked, "Should I?"

She cleared her throat, mouth suddenly dry. "You offered to teach me. I happen to be in need of a teacher." She adopted an airy pose. It felt easier and more natural. It also felt like she was … flirting.

"Would I survive it?" he asked. "Since your last one died."

So much for flirting. She sputtered, "That wasn't my fault!"

"Oh? Wasn't it? Without your involvement, Luke would have stayed on that island for years more."

"And the First Order would have wiped out the Resistance – your mother among them!" Her voice was heated now.

"Possibly. If you hadn't fled the throne room I would have never staged a ground assault on Crait."

"You were destroying them! Shooting them out of space. I saw it!"

"The _Supremacy_ wasn't firing on anything when you left!"

"I left because it was firing on them before and you didn't stop it!"

"I wasn't in a position to stop it." He shook his head a little, but his outrage was gone. He knew he was wrong.

"Yes, you were. You could have tried. I would have helped you."

"I didn't know … I didn't know if …I didn't know you would help me. Why would you?"

She sat down on his bed and buried her face in her hands. "We're talking about different things. I went to the _Supremacy_ to ask you to help us. To leave the First Order or make them stop being evil. You refused."

"You didn't ask me that."

"Yes, I did!"

"_No, you didn't_. We killed the guards. You asked me to stop the barrage. I asked you to join me. You refused. Then you tried to draw a weapon against me. That's what happened."

"Why didn't you say yes? Why didn't you stop them? People were being killed."

"Without your help, I couldn't have stopped it. Without your help, I was deposed within a week and slated for execution."

Rey swallowed hard, because that was also true. She'd left him alone when she knew how deep that must have cut him. Yet even so, he'd come here for her.

Kylo went on, "You wanted to use me to protect people whose mission was to kill me. You wanted me to save people who'd given up on me, a mother who is barely willing to be civil to my face. You_ still_ want me to do those things."

"You said you would help us," she said after a long pause to process the hurt she felt at his words. "You told Leia you'd look into the future and see if the First Order was planning to attack here."

"Why don't you look yourself?"

"I don't know how."

"I think you do."

She started to give him a sour look, then realized he might be right. She hadn't tried – because she simply hadn't thought about it. A lifetime of not being able to do something meant it wasn't automatic. She pondered.

Kylo put a blanket on the floor. "Sit there." He put another one behind him and sat on it.

She sat. "You're going to show me anyway?" she asked in a small, wondering voice.

"You know most of it anyway. It's more like … reminding you of what you already have. Relax. Open your mind. I'll show you."


	11. Poe 2

[Poe]

* * *

"We had a vision," Rey explained after she burst into the tactical room. She was almost breathless in excitement. "Sidious is back and he intends to take over the First Order."

"Sidious? Who's that?" Poe asked. The others in the room comprised two groups: Rose, Finn, and a couple techs were installing the holotable, and Leia and Lando were discussing what fixtures she'd need to run the Resistance from here. Both groups fell silent and listened.

"Darth Sidious." Kylo followed her in, looking peeved rather than excited. "You would know him as Emperor Palpatine."

"Emperor …?" Poe asked. "You mean the Empire Emperor Palpatine? Guy who died before I was even born?"

"Yes," Kylo said solemnly.

"Did you miss the part about him being dead?" Poe asked.

"Did you miss the part about him being back?" Kylo shot back.

"How do people just come back from the dead?" Poe asked, tossing down the datapad he'd been intending to review with Leia. He threw his hands up and scoffed at how preposterous the idea was. Palpatine was a figure from the history books, the big bad his parents had fought against _and defeated_. He wasn't just 'still around' or 'back'.

"They do," Rey said. "In the Force."

"Oh?" Poe said, but she looked dead serious. His brows drew together in concern. She seemed to believe it, whatever it was. And, well, she knew things he didn't. "If you say so." He wasn't being sarcastic, but he was still having trouble wrapping his mind around it.

Leia said, "Luke often spoke of seeing or hearing the spirits of past Jedi, Obi-Wan Kenobi in particular."

"I know about the spirits," Poe said, because of course he did. The religion he'd been raised in, the Church of the Force, spoke of them. But evil Sith guys didn't get to come back. Or at least, that's what he'd been taught. "I didn't know about this 'coming back' thing. They can do that? Why doesn't everyone, then?"

Kylo said, "Ghosts can't interact with the world without a lot of effort. They can only appear in locations that are strong in the Force or to people already sensitive to the Force who knew them."

"But this guy manages to take over the First Order?" Poe asked, deciding to give Kylo a pass on not answering the 'why not everyone' question. It wasn't as important as 'why this particular asshole.' "If he's tied to a location, then why don't they just walk away from him? Fly, maybe, if they're in space. Everyone who knew him has to be dead, right?"

Rey said, "In the vision, we see him possess General Hux. That's his tie to the world of the living."

"He knew General Hux?" Poe asked. The ages didn't match. He didn't have Hux's file memorized, but it was easy to remember the guy would have been a little kid at the time. "Also, wait, is he Force sensitive?"

"I don't know," Rey said, shaking her head.

"Yeah doesn't matter," he conceded. Kylo's explanation had a lot of holes in it, but there was an obvious solution regardless. Decisively, he said, "So we kill General Hux."

Kylo rolled his eyes. "We saw it happen. It can't be prevented."

"Well, you saw him take over the galaxy, too," Poe said. "If that can't be prevented, then what are we even talking about?"

"We saw his plan," Rey said. "Visions are unreliable. Even though what they show you is true, it's only true from a certain point of view. There may be a way to get rid of him after."

"Okay," Poe amended, "then we kill General Hux _after_ he gets possessed."

Rey said, "We talked about that, but Kylo is concerned he might be too powerful after he has a physical form." She gestured at him.

"Too powerful? For you two?"

Kylo gave an acknowledging tilt of his head.

"Okay," Poe said, thinking. "Then-"

Rose, Finn, and the techs had stopped working as soon as Rey came in. Up to now, they'd been listening quietly. Rose spoke up to ask, "Is Sidious worse than Hux?"

"Yes," Kylo said immediately.

"You're sure?" she asked.

Kylo nodded. "Yes. Hux is … rational. Disciplined. Orderly." Rose looked unconvinced. Kylo went on, "He is _mortal_. Sidious is _not_ and he wasn't even when he was emperor. My grandfather died to end him and his rule." He shook his head. "Hux is just a man. I left the First Order in his control. I will not leave it in that of Darth Sidious."

"We need to know more about how he's going to do this," Rey said.

"I thought you knew his plan," Poe said. "Don't you guys know anything for sure?"

Rey gave him a glower (which he totally did not deserve in his opinion), then shook her head. "We know what he's planning. We don't know how he does it. And also, knowing more about possession would help us understand other things."

"Like what?" Poe asked, but Rey took a leaf from Kylo's book and didn't answer.

Kylo did, sort of. He said, "Snoke had an extensive library of Sith holocrons and holy items. General Hux knows their value, but he can't use them. He wouldn't have thrown them away. We're going to infiltrate the _Finalizer_ and steal them. I didn't have a chance to study them while I was supreme leader. But I can do that now and perhaps we'll find a way to stop him."

"Infiltrate a star destroyer?" Finn said, stepping forward and looking interested. "That's old hat. So who's going?"

"Just the two of us," Kylo said with a scowl and a negating wave of his hand.

"No," Leia said. "I'm not sending the only two Force users we have into the field without backup." Poe thought the more relevant objection was going off half-cocked on virtually no solid information, but he kept his mouth shut. It seemed kind of … hypocritical to point that out.

"More would complicate things," Kylo said.

"And while simple is good," Leia said, "it's also easy to disrupt. I'm sending you with assistance. As long as you're there, there is information we need on the First Order. Things like number of ships, deployments, resources. We need the most detailed picture possible if we're to continue to recruit allies and show them what they can do to contribute. If that's disrupting supply lines or hitting them when they're not looking – we need that information. While you're there, _get_ that information."

Kylo continued to scowl.

"How?" Rose asked.

Finn said, "All that will be in their central computers. That's how _their_ leadership makes decisions."

Rose nodded. "Then we can download it while we're there."

"'We'?" Finn said. "You're going?"

"_We_ are going," she said. "You know the layout of a star destroyer better than any of us except maybe Kylo, and it sounds like he has his own mission while he's there."

"If I go with the other team," Rey said, "then I can use the Force to minimize how much resistance we encounter. We might be able to just walk in, get what we want, and walk out."

"You can't mind-trick everyone," Leia said. "Let's put you in First Order uniforms and get you a ship that will pass at least a surface inspection."

Lando piped up. "I happen to have both, back on Cloud City."

* * *

Poe was really getting tired of these rough landings. It made him look incompetent when the truth was just about any other pilot in the galaxy would have been paste against the star destroyer's hull. In their case … well, after a turbo laser clipped the engines and literally exploded the back quarter of the ship, he still managed to get them inside the hangar with a last ditch burst from the maneuvering jets. No one was paste.

What was left of their ship skidded across said hangar and crashed into the far side. No one on the _Finalizer_ appeared to care, probably because they were in the middle of a losing fight against six other ships, two of which were same class. Poe and party bailed out of their flaming ship and retreated out of the hangar as it finished exploding.

Poe said, "So much for that."

"Next time," Kylo growled, "I'm piloting."

"Next time you're co-pilot," Poe said. "We're alive. That's what counts."

Finn asked, "Sure, but how are we getting back out of here? Continuing on with the mission in the middle of this firefight is craziness."

Poe said, "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Let's get what we came for first. Chewie, C'ai, go with Rose's group. I'll go with Kylo." Chewbacca and Threnalli had both volunteered with the original role of staying on the ship and effectively keeping the engines hot, ready for their departure. There wasn't anything left of the engines to keep hot, which introduced a host of problems since the First Order was overwhelmingly human.

Rey complained, "They'll stand out."

Poe said, "They're going to stand out anywhere. Where else are they going to go? Should they wait here?" That was sarcasm. Probably not called for, but he was feeling a bit stressed by the situation.

"That wouldn't work," Rose said. "They can come with us. There's a battle raging. Maybe people have better things to do."

Finn said, "I doubt that, but they're safer with us than anywhere else."

Chewie had some things to say. Rey nodded. "Alright. You're with us."

Kylo turned to Poe. "I don't want you along."

Poe sighed. "Listen, you heard General Organa. You heard the Wookiee: no one goes alone, especially either of you two. Do you want to go with one of them instead?" He gestured at Rose's team.

"Fine," Kylo said in a sulky tone. "I pilot next time."

"No," Poe said back, refusing to give a centimeter. "You co-pilot."

Finn said, "Why are you two arguing over something that stupid? We don't even have a ship." He looked between the two of them. Kylo was impassive. Poe shrugged. Finn asked him, "Where do we go after we do the download?"

Poe said, "Converge on my signal. We'll find a ship. Don't worry about it. Looks like it will be easy to get out of here in the confusion."

Poe and Kylo went to Kylo's quarters, with Kylo mind tricking the few challengers they had to their progress. The room was empty. Kylo cursed. "He probably moved everything of value to his quarters. It's down here."

"'He'?" He said as he followed Kylo a short distance down the hall.

"General Hux," Kylo said, stopping outside a door.

Poe waved around at the place. "This huge ship, and you guys lived right next to each other? Like two doors down?"

Kylo said, "We were co-commanders for years, same rank, serving on the same ship. That puts your quarters in the same area." He used his powers to force the door to Hux's quarters.

Kylo scanned the room and moved immediately to a set of crates at the far end, under a projection of a star scape. Unless Poe wanted to knock elbows with him (which he distinctly did not), he was left to examine the rest of the room. It was a suite of two rooms next to one another. He left Kylo sorting through the crates and wandered into the bedroom.

The space here was disturbingly impersonal. At least the main room had shown some character in odd furniture. In here, the bed was made regulation-neat, the walls were bare, and there was another generic star scape projected on the far wall. The refresher was equally barren, as though the more private the space, the less of an impression Hux had made on it. It reminded him of a hotel. As he started to leave, he noticed something on the bed stand next to a datapad.

It was a stone a little smaller than his palm, black like the walls and some of the furniture, so it had blended in on first glance. It had a chip missing from one corner. Poe rolled it around in his hand, wondering why someone on a space ship had a rock next to their bed. Everything else in here looked ready for inspection. Was it that this guy had nothing private in his life? Or was it that he'd never been _allowed_ to have anything private? The things Finn had told Poe about the Order implied the latter. Poe slipped the stone into his pocket to think about later.

He walked back to the other room. "You know this guy," he said to Kylo. "Do you think he's on-board with the idea of giving himself over to Sidious?"

"He doesn't even know his father was one of Palpatine's clones," Kylo said, still sorting through Snoke's things. Some of them he floated out of the crates using the Force, making Poe wonder if they weren't safe to touch.

"He's what? Brendol Hux was a clone? And you just decided to tell us that now, in the middle of this?"

Kylo paused to give him an unimpressed glare. "Yes. Of Palpatine."

Poe turned in a half circle, hands on his hips, before swiveling back. He'd read the files on all the First Order leadership some time back, along with the history of the organization as Leia knew it. It was required reading for everyone in her inner circle. "Brendol Hux could use the Force? Why didn't the First Order-"

But Kylo was shaking his head. "He was Force-neuter. Clones usually are. But being his biological equal must have been useful for Sidious somehow. Maybe it was a body he planned to inhabit and didn't have a chance to, there at the end over Endor. That the vision showed him possessing Armitage is too much of a coincidence for it to be meaningless. The family tie has to matter."

"How do you know they're related? Are you sure of this?"

"Snoke knew. He told me when we were discussing the power of bloodlines. I'm sure."

"But he never told Hux? Armitage, that is."

"No."

"And you didn't either?"

"No."

"Why? I mean, why didn't you tell him?"

Kylo shrugged. Poe blinked at him, thinking back to how he'd gotten so many killed over Crait by not knowing the plan, not knowing the truth, and making bad assumptions as a result. "Did it ever occur to you that he might need to know that about himself?"

Kylo shrugged again, looking guilty this time, as though it had possibly never occurred to him to share. Poe moved closer and said, "No, I'm serious. Okay, maybe not back then, but what about now? What if he gets told that at the last minute by Palpatine and it makes a difference? What if that's why he lets it happen, because it's the only family tie he has?"

"It's going to happen anyway," Kylo said defensively.

"You're not even going to give him a chance? You're just going to let him get possessed, is that it?"

Kylo glowered down at him. "He's a _Palpatine_."

"And you are …?" Poe demanded. "Listen, I know who Leia's related to. I know you're her son. And you know what? I don't judge either one of you based on that. But you're going to judge Hux based on someone he doesn't even _know_ he's related to?"

"Why do you care at all?"

"Because you've told me the fate of the galaxy hinges on it! We can't do anything about Sidious being back. Fine, he's back, whatever. He's going to take over the First Order and you've said he's going to do it through Hux." Kylo made a vaguely disagreeing expression. "That's basically what you said, right?"

"Yes."

"Okay, then. The way to stop it is right there!" He gestured emphatically in the direction Poe assumed the bridge lay. When Kylo looked undecided, Poe continued, "You lived next to this guy and worked with him for years. Tell me he's a lost cause. Tell me he's so eaten up by darkness that he should be condemned to having his body used as an instrument for the forces of evil. Tell me you would make that decision about him without ever letting him know why. Because that's the decision you're making."

Kylo straightened and sighed. He looked pained, but he said with resignation, "It's going to happen anyway."

"Rey said visions were unreliable. Maybe he fights him off afterward. Maybe Palpatine possesses him twenty years from now. Maybe _he_ helps us find another way. The future is not written in stone. _His_ future is not written in stone. If we're about anything, it's about freedom, but freedom doesn't matter much when you don't have the right information to make a decision."

"You were talking about killing him two days ago."

"Yeah, and that's not off the table. It would wrap all this up fairly neat and simple. But what I'm not about is walking off and leaving him with Palps and him not knowing what's at stake. Let's go find him." Poe gestured at the stuff Kylo had piled on the blue couch. "You've got your stuff, right?"

"Not all of it. There are a few things missing. They're not here."

"You know who'd know where they were?" Poe asked. "Hux."


	12. Hux 1

[Hux]

* * *

Armitage Hux did not regret being the last to leave the bridge. Or rather, attempt to leave. Because he was still there, clinging to the edge of a canted, slippery bit of decking, in danger of falling to an uncertain but probably final fate. He did regret taking a last moment to look around the place in useless sentimentality, which was when some diabolically well-placed shot had blown a gaping hole in the bridge tower, collapsing one of the lower levels and taking out much of the floor of the bridge itself.

He wasn't sure what was below him, but the idea of letting go to find out sounded unhealthy. On the other hand, his purchase on the deck was slipping despite the otherwise good gripping power of his gloves. He was sweating inside them and was possessed of only enough upper body strength to cling here – not enough to hoist himself out like some athletic holo-drama star. He didn't get very far into considering his limited options when the shadow of Kylo Ren filled the open hatch, then moved inside abruptly after catching sight of him.

Of all the people to find him like this! Ren wasn't even part of the First Order anymore, having been ousted for treason, assassination, and a handful of related charges. He must have joined up with the damned Resistance and here he was back. Hux snarled up at him. "Here to gloat?"

Ren moved on the tilted deck as though it were perfectly flat – the Force, of course. Damn him again! Ren knelt and extended a hand without hesitation.

Hux looked at it disbelievingly. He slipped a few more inches, stopping only by scrabbling with renewed desperation. "You expect me to ask for your help?" In the background, a figure loitered in the doorway. Other than their non-regulation boots, Hux couldn't see them past Ren's looming form.

"Take my hand. You're not going to die."

"I sentenced _you_ to death!" There was no reason for Ren to offer him aid. Hux had made sure all the theatrical window-dressing of an impending execution was real enough to pass muster.

"The future can be different."

"I have no future, as you might have noticed." He hazarded a glance over his shoulder, desperate enough to take the risk. It wasn't good. If he let go, the ship's artificial gravity would pull him straight down into empty space. Beyond that was the main hull, far below. Even assuming the containment field was intact (he suspected it was, as he was able to breathe and wasn't being sucked away into vacuum), there was no way to survive a fall that far.

"You do," Ren insisted. "You still do. I've seen it. Take my hand."

Damn him and the Force, too! What was Ren even doing here? "I _can't_." He didn't mean he wasn't physically able. He meant it wasn't something he could let himself do. He slipped again, barely hanging on. He realized the only way to do this in a dignified fashion was to let go on purpose. That would be hard, but he could do it. He steeled himself, shutting his eyes for a moment and letting resolve fill him.

Ren grabbed his forearm with a grip of iron, thwarting Hux's plan. Ren looked off-balance. Hux wondered if he kicked out, if he could pull the both of them over the edge. It was what an enemy deserved; what a Hux deserved – to die taking out his most powerful foe. But Ren wouldn't be in danger if he hadn't been trying to help. It took him out of the category of enemy and put him in one Hux wasn't familiar with at all.

Hux mentally promised himself he'd kill Ren for this later, then let go of the deck and grabbed Ren's arm in as smooth a transfer as possible. He'd expected Ren to use the Force to lift him. The nerf-bull lifted him with sheer muscle instead, beyond what even a holo-drama actor could manage. The only role the Force played was keeping him stable during it.

"You can't say I just happened to be nearby _this_ time," Hux hissed. Ren didn't answer, which was an answer unto itself, confirming something Hux had suspected for years. Ren put Hux on the tilted deck and gave him a few undignified pushes up it.

In the hatchway, Hux passed that Resistance pilot they'd captured (and had then escaped) over Jakku. Hux couldn't recall his name. The guy had a blaster in his hand, but it was pointed at the floor. "We need to move," the guy said to Ren. "This place is going to pieces."

Ren nodded. "Find a ship you can fly. I'll join up. I have to see if I can find the rest."

"I can fly anything," the other guy objected. "Also, we shouldn't split up."

"We're splitting up," Ren said, then turned to Hux. "Where are my personal effects?"

Hux could feel his face twist in confusion. "Is that what you came back for, in the middle of a raging battle? They're in _storage_!" There was a pressure in his head, familiar and hated. But Hux was already thinking about where he'd had the stuff archived. It was there on the surface of his mind for anyone to read. "Get out of my head!" he snarled.

Ren recoiled from him and smirked. "I have what I need. You should get as far away from this battle as you can if you want to survive." He dashed off in a swirl of black cloak.


	13. Kylo 3

[Kylo]

* * *

Finally. He was alone! He grinned wildly at that and ran down the corridor with a bounding stride that made his cloak snap behind him. People saw him, recognized him, and stared, too shocked for him to need to use the Force. He'd deliberately chosen to return to the _Finalizer_ in the same clothing he'd left it, despite the objections of the group. Lando had understood. There were parts of his old identity he wasn't done with.

The ship's vaults remained secure, well-insulated from the battle for now. He dismissed the troopers guarding it. The droids were a little harder to convince, but he got past them as well. The computer that directly controlled access was tougher. He didn't know Hux's personal code and it would take something that high level to get inside.

He tried his own anyway. It didn't work. Hux had deactivated it, of course. Hux wasn't that stupid. But he wasn't all-knowing.

Kylo tried the override he'd had installed into the ship's system two or three years earlier, after an especially bitter feud over the Silencer program. Hux hadn't complained about Kylo's personal ship (he couldn't, after all), but he'd been in control of the implementation of the new model for the rest of the pilots. Hux had won that round between them, delaying the rollout, but Kylo had arranged for a high level backdoor in preparation for an end run he never got around to.

The code worked. The doors opened. Kylo strode inside, letting the Force guide him. What he was looking for was easy enough to find - the crystal sang to him. He retrieved his lightsaber and clipped it to his belt. Vader's mask rested next to it as though on display. Kylo wished he had something more protective to transport it in, but the bag with Snoke's things would have to do. He carefully added the mask on top of the two holocrons, data chits, Snoke's ring, and a medallion Snoke had had Kylo take from Tehar.

He paused to look around the vault and see what contraband Hux had stowed here. There were crates and crates of credits in different denominations and currencies. That was no surprise, nor was it illegal. Kylo was sure it was all properly entered in the account books. He picked up a few plaques and dropped them into the bag – not to steal them, but just to make sure the tally was off next time – if there was a next time. The ship was taking a pounding, but still, he refused to hurry.

He recognized most of the other things displayed around the room. There was a headdress bestowed on them after conquering Farnzen. There was a sculpture of a hoofed mammal meant to represent mutual prosperity they'd been gifted on Kraytor after an amicable alliance had been reached. There was a broken knife that symbolized the peace they'd achieved on Bezlid VIII.

There were other things he recalled with less clarity: a tattered book of Oldlaw, a decorated staff of chastisement from somewhere he couldn't name, an illuminated scroll that told the story of their victory on Vappendawdaeshanan, a rather pedestrian shield of the honored 'First Fallen' in battle against the Order on Mindar, and a replica of the skull of the world leader who'd surrendered to them on Pelfork (the old custom of severing the leader's head and presenting one's conqueror with the actual cleansed bone had been discontinued a few centuries earlier, which was fortunate for the leader in question).

None of them were illicit. These were all above-board, without a hint of the corruption Kylo had been looking for. There was also a crate marked "B. Hux" but Kylo ignored it. That Hux had inherited things from his father was perfectly normal.

Still. He unclipped the lightsaber and lit it. He might see nothing here to impugn Hux's character, but many of the items enshrined and celebrated the blood spilt in the First Order's ceaseless conquest of those worlds outside the reach of the New Republic. Kylo had played a role in many of these. He knew very well the cost that had been paid to earn these trophies. He would be congratulated for vandalizing them. Would his mother applaud him? Would Rey?

He leveled the sword at the replica skull, wondering if this was how he should prove himself. He swallowed. He found himself hesitating, pondering that. She hadn't asked for him to prove himself to her. He just … assumed. And Rey? If he needed to prove anything to her, then he didn't want her. Or so he told himself.

He lowered the sword, but the blade still crackled with life. He, Hux, and others had worked hard to stitch together a network of worlds which supported the Order. Sometimes people had died in the process. Sometimes they had not. But there was no good to be found in destroying their accomplishments. He clicked off the lightsaber and replaced it on his belt. He had what he'd come for. Now it was time to leave.


	14. Hux 2

[Hux]

* * *

"Hey, I said-" The pilot looked after Ren's departing form, a frustrated expression on his face. It was nice to know that even Ren's allies found him insufferable. The guy turned back to Hux and made a motion with his blaster. "Come on."

Hux tried to parse that small blaster motion. Was he threatening him with it? Or just indicating direction? From a stormtrooper, it would have been a threat. They would have used their elbow or maybe chin for direction. But the pilot wasn't a stormtrooper.

The guy looked at him more intently. "Come on. Let's go." Hux just stared at him. He looked familiar. The guy said, "What? Are you going to go down with the ship? I know you can talk."

Hux defaulted to outraged, mostly because he didn't know how else to act. "You don't give me orders, scum!"

The guy's eyes widened. He waited a few beats, then changed his tone to more conciliatory. "Okay. Let me try a different technique here. It's not an order. It's a request. Please don't make me have to explain to Kylo that I left you to die after everything I said to get him to save you."

"He did not _sa_-" Hux cut himself off. There was no other possible explanation for what Ren had done. Not only had he saved him, but Ren didn't care about it (or was no more willing to acknowledge the debt than he had been years before). Though Hux didn't miss the implication that _this man_, in front of him, was the one who wanted him alive.

"Please?" The guy leaned forward with a charming smile and sultry eyes that looked totally out of place for the situation.

All the air left Hux and he blurted out, "I … yes?" He shouldn't have said that. He regretted it, too, but the words had just popped out after that flustering look. They sounded weirdly hopeful and pitched upward. He wasn't supposed to sound like that. Maybe he had a soft spot for people begging that he'd never discovered because no one had ever looked at him like that. It couldn't be anything else.

"Good," the guy said, nodding a couple times. "If we don't move, we're _both_ going to die here. The containment field is not going to hold forever. This entire bridge tower is going to depressurize, with us in it." He gestured at the hallway with his empty hand. His face was serious and he was speaking slowly like Hux was dimwitted. He supposed he must have looked that way, wanting to argue like this.

"Fine," Hux conceded. "Go."

The pilot turned and strode off, glancing back to make sure Hux was coming. And yes, Hux followed. Half-seething, half-distracted by the continuing destruction of the _Finalizer_. Because that was clearly what was going on. It was why they'd been evacuating the bridge in the first place.

The guy went around a corner and did a full stop just a few steps beyond it. Hux saw the reason for it when he came around the corner himself. Two squads of stormtroopers were clustered in front of the lift. When Hux saw them, they had their blasters up and half of them pointed at the pilot, who slowly raised his hands, his blaster still held in one.

Hux stepped to the side of him. "The general," one of the troopers said. The muzzles of their weapons drifted to the side so none of them were pointing at him.

The pilot looked to Hux and sighed. "And I was having such a good time."

"Were you?"

The guy shrugged. "Not really, but maybe. I felt like it was going somewhere at least."

"You're babbling."

"Can you blame me?"

"Holster your blaster." He walked by. The stormtroopers took his order (and the pilot obeying it) as a sign the pilot wasn't an enemy. They stopped pointing their weapons at either of them. There was a distant explosion to remind them all of the ongoing battle. The floor shook under their feet. To the troopers, Hux said, "Who's in charge here?"

"You are, sir!" said several of them brightly and simultaneously.

Behind him, Hux heard the pilot snicker at how Hux hadn't gotten the answer he wanted. But by now Hux had spotted the rank insignia he needed to know who to speak to. "First sergeant? Bring your squad. Come with me. The lifts are out in the tower. We'll use stairs. We're going to hangar bay two." He thought about Kylo's warning as well as his last view of the tactical situation. "We need to get off the ship."

As they descended to the lower levels, the sound of weapons impact against the hull changed. Hux knew it was due to the containment field collapsing. They'd already been without shields and engines. Soon they would be without air and power. It was only the sheer bulk of the mighty ship protecting them now. He would miss her, but he'd already nearly paid for his sentimentality with his life, so he kept moving.

He stopped at the first working comm panel to signal a general evacuation, though he was uncertain if their enemies would collect refugees or use them for target practice. Either way, it would complicate space around them and aid in their own escape. Staying put was a definite death sentence for everyone.

They made it to the hangar. The individualized containment field for the hangar was still operational. Most ships were still in their berths.

"That's not a good sign," the pilot said, gesturing at the hangar. "Why wouldn't other people be here taking off?"

"We were operating on a skeleton crew since the debacle at Crait," Hux said, which was more explanation than the man deserved. "We'll take the closest one."

"I might have an opinion about that," the pilot muttered.

"Then keep it to yourself," Hux snapped at him. They hustled across the deck, only for Hux to rescind his order and direct them to the third ship – an _Upsilon_-class shuttle: bigger, faster, better shielded, better armed. That made it more of a target, but he didn't have time to weigh the factors.

"Good choice," the pilot said, unasked. He walked past Hux at the top of the ramp, heading to the forward compartment.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm a pilot. I'm going to go sit in the pilot seat and do pilot stuff."

"_You're_ flying-?" Hux cut himself off there. Actually, the man had a point.

The pilot came back, hands on hips in a dominant posture. "Can you? Fly this thing?" Hux said nothing, but the angry expression was off his face. The guy smirked. "Because I know none of them can." He waved back at the troopers who had filed inside and were now doubtless watching the confrontation with interest. "You color-code them. Pilots wear black or red. Not white. And you just ordered an evacuation. No one's at their stations to answer your call."

Not that Hux had made one. Or would. He'd scrambled every fighter they had early on in the fight. There was no one left to respond even if he tried.

The guy took a half-step forward, lips parting, eyes hooded, and looked up into Hux's face from far too close. "Admit it," he said huskily, his breath warm against Hux's skin, "you _need_ me."

He probably meant it as some kind of threat. … some … some kind. Hux felt his face heat and his mouth go dry. He instantly remembered that humiliating prank call over D'Qar as he realized who this person was. It didn't help things. He tried to snarl but it only came out as a grimace. The guy was studying him with a peculiar, incisive interest. He was still way too close. The man tilted his head and said, "I'm going to go, uh …" He hooked a thumb over his shoulder.

"Yes." Hux's voice came out strangled. "You should. Go." He turned on his heel and stomped the entirely too short distance over to the first sergeant. "You've been monitoring chatter?" he said in a more normal voice. The trooper nodded. "Report." Having not heard any indication the pilot had moved, Hux glanced back. The man was biting his lower lip and looking down with a thoughtful expression. He met Hux's eyes, but Hux spun away, back to the first sergeant. Then he heard him walk off to the forward compartment.

"Rebel scum," Hux spat. "Filthy-minded … degenerate …" One thing about stormtrooper helmets – they gave away nothing of the expressions going on under it. This wasn't Phasma he was talking to. "Never mind that. Are the central computers still functioning?"

"Yes sir." She reached up to toggle a comm switch under the left jawline of the helmet.

"What's the progress on the evacuation?"

"Twenty-three percent of the life pods have been launched."

"How many of them still have active transponders?" He could hear the pilot saying something from the forward compartment, but it didn't seem directed to any of them. Hux looked over that way.

The first sergeant hesitated as she did whatever was necessary to pull the additional information, then said, "Seventeen percent, sir."

"Thank you."

Hux pivoted and went to the forward compartment, arriving just as the pilot finished with, "Rendezvous on my signal. Dameron out."

"Ah, yes. Your name. Poe Dameron."

The man pocketed the comm link he'd been using for the transmission. "I'm charmed you remember me," he said diplomatically.

"It was difficult to forget given what you've done, but I managed."

Poe turned and checked a blinking light, then hit a button. It stopped blinking. "How much of a grudge am I dealing with here?"

"A grudge? For what you did? Why?"

"What?" Poe looked at him uncertainly.

"Why would I have a grudge against you for what you did? It was spectacularly effective."

"What?" Uncertainty changed to disbelief.

"The Rebel scum must be scrubbed from the galaxy, but your actual competence is commendable. I can respect a criminal who has audacity and skill. It doesn't make him any less a criminal."

"That means I've got a shot, then."

"A what?"

"Never mind." Poe laughed to himself and went back to the controls.

Hux had more important questions than this overly familiar banter. "How many of you are there, anyway?"

"Just a few. We came out of hyperspace and all this was going on." He swept his hand to indicate everything beyond the viewport. "Are those your own guys attacking you?"

"That's not something I will discuss with you."

"Fine. But trust me, this was not what we thought we'd be flying into."

"Flying into? Where's your ship?"

"Ah … well, let's just say, 'Thanks for the shuttle,' okay?" Poe laughed again and finished the start-up sequence. The man added, "We got shot down by those guys same as you."

"You crashed. Just like on Jakku? Seems to be a trend."

"I don't crash. I have hard landings."

"Perhaps I spoke too soon about your competence," he teased, pleased to have put the arrogant Rebel on the defensive.

Poe waggled a finger at him. "No one has ever died during one of my landings. At least, none of the passengers. Can't say for sure I haven't landed on a few people I didn't like." His head turned to look out the viewport. "Hey, there they are. They must have been close."

Hux looked where he was pointing. Some motley half dozen people were hurrying across the deck, homing in on them. Four were in First Order uniforms, but two others were not. Those two weren't even human – a gangrel Wookiee and some thick-bodied humanoid thing that was at least wearing clothes, which was more than could be said of the Wookiee. "I agreed to Ren coming with us, not half the Resistance army."

"That's funny," Poe said dryly. "The Resistance is a little bigger than that."

"What's left of them."

That barb appeared to bite deeper than the others. Poe grimaced. With difficulty, he said, "In any case, this shuttle isn't going anywhere without them."

Hux put a hand on the butt of his blaster, but didn't pull it. "No matter what?"

Poe stared at his hand where it rested on the blaster, then locked eyes with him for a long, sober moment. "What would you do if those were your friends out there?"

"I don't have 'friends'," Hux said scathingly.

"Well … um …" It was gratifying to see how much that threw the pilot off his stride, but he recovered with, "If they were?"

The man obviously wasn't going to be intimidated and he was the only pilot he had. Hux couldn't shoot him without being stranded here. If Poe saw 'friendship' the same way Hux saw 'duty', then he wasn't going to make any headway in convincing him to leave them behind. Hux frowned and said, "Then I need to make sure there's not an incident." He walked back to the troopers and told them, "A half dozen Resistance members are coming, some dressed in First Order uniforms, some are aliens. They aren't allies, but don't shoot them."

A young woman in a colonel's uniform was up the ramp first and if she even saw the troopers, she didn't react. But the second in line, outfitted as a captain, jerked to a halt with a startled, "Whoa!" His blaster pistol was up and pointed, first at a trooper, then at Hux as he noticed him. Hux recognized him as the traitor, FN-2187.

"No," Hux said when the troopers retaliated by pointing their own weapons. He put a hand out to the side toward the troopers.

The woman turned to review what was going on. The two aliens and two other uniformed infiltrators bunched up on the ramp behind FN-2187 had their weapons out as well.

Poe came sauntering in and draped a hand over Hux's shoulder in an overly familiar fashion. Hux glanced at him, then decided to go with it. He straightened and lifted his chin.

"Poe," FN-2187 said. "Who's in charge here?" He was looking around now, seeing a dozen troopers, one general, and Poe, but the pilot was still armed and obviously free to move about.

"This guy," Poe said, surprising Hux by gesturing to him. Every single one of the troopers swiveled their heads to look at Poe. FN-2187's brows went up as well. This was open acknowledgment that Hux was in command of them (or at least of Poe, and no one else was arguing) and a much bigger deal among them than among the Resistance, whom Hux believed observed proper chain of command only very loosely.

"Okay …" FN-2187 said slowly. He looked at the woman who had entered first. Other than Poe and Hux, she was the only one without a weapon drawn and ready.

"I don't sense any danger," she said.

"Of course not," Poe said. "We're friends now," he added firmly. He reached over with the hand that wasn't still draped over Hux's shoulder and patted him on the upper chest to make it absolutely clear who he was talking about, nonsensical as it was. To FN-2187, he said, "Come onboard. Get settled in. I'm just about done with the startup sequence." Poe went back up front like nothing of import had happened.

FN-2187 lowered his weapon and finished coming up the ramp slowly, taking a good long look at the situation. Hux made a dismissive wave at the troopers, who holstered their blasters. He eyed the two aliens bringing up the rear, the Wookiee in particular. Wookiees had a well-founded hate for the Empire, which he presumed might apply to the First Order as well. He was fairly sure he recognized this one.

As for the other alien, he was sure he'd seen the species before in a class about such things, but he couldn't recall what they were called. It was slick-skinned and bluish, with a yellowish cast to the bottom half of its face. It looked to outweigh average humans by half again. Most of the extra bulk was in its torso and shoulders, which implied the brutish physical strength so common to inferior alien species. It also had an extended cranium, which often meant increased intelligence, but who could tell?

The ship quaked hard enough to rattle them even inside the shuttle. Hux turned to the first sergeant. "The escape pods?" he asked quietly.

"Thirty-eight percent launched, twenty-nine percent active."

"They're shooting them, then," he said sourly. "But not with any thoroughness. Maybe some will survive. It also means they'll be shooting at us." He went to the forward compartment and pulled out his comm link. Flipping it over, he activated the holo-projection feature and then hit another button. A wire frame representation of the nearby elements of the ship sprang into being above it, along with a glowing red dot.

"What's that?" Poe asked.

"Ren. He's nearly here."

"You … have a tracking beacon on Kylo?"

Hux looked at him steadily. "Yes."

"You know I'm going to tell him, right?"

"About the tracker?" Poe nodded. Hux told him, "He knows."

Poe's head pulled back. "You sentenced him to death for treason, tried to have him executed, and … he knows you have that on him? He left it?"

"It's complicated and no business of yours."

The woman came up behind him. Hux snapped off the projection and stepped uneasily to the side so he could see her. She said, "Kylo's nearly here."

"Yeah, that's what he said."

Her expression was questioning, but Hux headed it off by saying, "There," and inclining his head. He'd been watching the door Ren was most likely to use. And he did. Poe made himself busy at the controls, bringing the warmed-up engines off standby.


	15. Kaydel 1

[Kaydel]

* * *

It was Kaydel who took the plunge on introductions. "Well. My name is Kaydel Ko Connix. This is Finn. That's Rey. This is Chewbacca, C'ai Threnalli, and Rose Tico. What should we call you?" She looked directly at the trooper in charge, because she knew enough of First Order ranks to recognize who that was. The black shoulder pauldron gave it away, but she wasn't sure what the orange barring around the edge meant. "Captain?" she hazarded when no answer seemed forthcoming.

"No," Finn said. "First sergeant." He made a show of rolling his shoulders. Keeping his hands firmly tucked at his sides, he walked right up to the soldier in question. It got him a blaster leveled at his gut that gave Kaydel a spike of fear, but no trigger was pulled and Finn didn't waver.

He leaned forward slightly, looking at something on the upper left of the armored breastplate. "CL-0745." He glanced over his shoulder to the Resistance members to add, "First sergeant, in command of this squad." He turned back. "Is it a squad or section?" She didn't answer, so he moved on to the next, side-stepping the blaster, which went back in the holster with no further objection.

He read off all eleven remaining designations and ranks. She could understand where he was getting the ranks – the pauldrons (black with white barring for a staff sergeant, white with black barring for a squad leader sergeant, plain white for a squad leader corporal – at which point Finn said, "It's a section, which means two squads," and went on). But she couldn't tell how he was reading the designations. She assumed it had something to do with him stepping right up to them, right into their personal space. He then looked at their upper chest, although from her angle she saw nothing there.

After one of the designations no different from the others, 'H' something, Finn paused to say, "Respect," with a small nod the trooper did not return. Then Finn went on to the next one. It was nothing but an alphabet soup of numbers and letters to Kaydel. Even more confusingly, about half of them started with 'FN-90'.

"I'm not going to remember those," Kaydel admitted. "How does anyone remember those?"

The first sergeant said mockingly, "K-nel Coconazz? How does anyone remember that? Our designations _mean _something. What does yours mean? You didn't earn it."

She was so startled by the question she didn't answer. Finn, to her surprise, chuckled in sympathy with the stormtrooper and said, "It means she has _parents_." Several of the other troopers rocked in place silently. Their shoulders moved. A couple of them bumped into one another. Kaydel suspected they were laughing, but not the way humans normally laughed. They _were_ humans, right? They could be anything under those helmets, though she'd always heard the First Order were bigoted xenophobes.

Finn walked over next to Rose, leaving Kaydel to fend for herself in the face of their ridicule. "Yes," she snapped. "It means I had parents! Unlike the First Order, we don't take children from their families!"

"No," CL-0745 growled, "you just leave them to die."

"What?" she said in outrage, taking an angry step forward.

Kylo came up the ramp with long strides, stopping abruptly at the top. It put him directly between the two groups – stormtroopers on one side, Resistance on the other. He looked back and forth between the two, head cocked.


	16. The Cast

The Cast

* * *

**Resistance side:**

Commander Poe Dameron

Commander Rose Tico

Lieutenant Kaydel Ko Connix

Lieutenant C'ai Threnalli

The Finn

Chewbacca

The Jedi Rey

Kylo

* * *

**First Order side (f = female, m = male):**

General Armitage Hux (m) - Regular crew member from _Finalizer _legion.

First sergeant CL-0745 (f) – "Lady" Black pauldron with orange barring. Regular crew member from _Finalizer _legion.

Staff sergeant FL-2216 (f) – "Flag" Black pauldron with white barring. Regular crew member from _Finalizer _legion.

.

Fire Team 1:

Sergeant FN-9013 (f) – "Teller" White pauldron, black barring. Regular crew member from _Finalizer _legion.

Weapons Specialist FN-9037 (m) – "Sharps" Regular crew member from _Finalizer _legion.

Electronics Specialist FN-9021 (m) – "Bigs" Regular crew member from _Finalizer _legion.

Private FN-9048 (m) – "Blaze" Regular crew member from _Finalizer _legion.

Security Specialist FN-9028 (m) – "Major" Regular crew member from _Finalizer _legion.

.

Fire Team 2:

Corporal H-482 (m) – "The Old Man" White pauldron, plain. Regular crew member from _Finalizer _legion. Adult recruit.

Weapons Specialist TN-1017 (m) – "Ten-ten" His original legion was lost in the Battle of Crait on one of the star destroyers.

Security Specialist DL-8192 (f) – "Donner" Reconstituted legion from the _Supremacy_.

Electronics Specialist DL-1364 (f) – Reconstituted legion from the _Supremacy_.

Private FO-1282 (f) – "Spots" Regular crew member from _Finalizer _legion, but a different company. Not part of CL-0745's squad. She was wandering the halls after losing the rest of her squad. 1/8th non-human.

.

For more information on the First Order designations, see my fic 'Making Sense of First Order Designations'.


	17. Hux 3

[Hux]

* * *

"He's on board," Hux said, turning to see Ren at the top of the ramp. Poe began closing it without being told. Noticing the way Ren was eying the stormtroopers, Hux strode back. "What's going on here?"

Ren asked, "What are _they _doing here?"

"They're my personal guards." He gestured at the Resistance members. "While we're on the subject, what are _they_ doing here?"

"I'm their personal guard."

Hux didn't buy that for a hot second, but he liked the parallel of the phrasing. "Oh? Good job you were doing at that, running about the ship while they were here. I haven't had them shot. You should thank me."

"Thank you," Ren said simply. Hux huffed in exasperation. He would have preferred an argument. Ren turned away from him and handed the plump bag he was carrying to the woman in the colonel's outfit. "We have what we came for."

"And what would that be?" Hux asked, not liking the implication that he was being dismissed.

Poe called back, "I need a co-pilot! We need to get out of here." As if to emphasize his words, the deck began another round of trembling beneath their feet. Ren brushed past him on the way to the forward compartment, sliding into the co-pilot's seat while grumbling something under his breath. Hux bared his teeth for a moment, but objecting to being brushed off meant jeopardizing their survival, so he didn't.

FN-2187 followed them into the front. "I don't mean to interrupt, but what _is_ he doing here?" He pointed at Hux. "And them?" he added, hooking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the stormtroopers.

"If you don't mean to interrupt," Hux told him acidly, "then _don't_."

Poe had the ship off the deck and pointed out. Beyond was the void of space, but they knew both above and below were other warships, the ones currently pounding the hulk of the _Finalizer_ into oblivion for kicks. They would likely target the shuttle as soon as they noticed it. Hux hoped there was enough debris to confuse the sensors long enough for them to make the jump to hyperspace.

"He was part of the plan," Ren said. FN-2187 looked confused. To Poe, Ren asked, "Are we ready for lightspeed?"

"On your mark. Gotta clear the ship first, though. _Finalizer_'s gravity field is big."

"Time is short. The window is closing."

"Here we go, then." Poe worked controls and the ship shot forward at rapidly-increasing thrust. It rode the edge of what the inertial dampeners could handle, pushing them all back and making them sway on their feet.

"Now," Ren said.

The last thing Hux saw was the blur of pseudomotion as they jumped to hyperspace.


	18. Sidious 2

[Sidious]

* * *

They'd gone far past what was necessary to subdue the star destroyer. Engines had been taken out first, weapons were nonfunctional, shields were gone, and life support itself had to have been out in many sections by now. At this point, they were simply bombarding the hulk because Sidious had yet to tell them to stop. The destruction was deeply pleasing to him.

He reveled in it, cackling as he felt people crying out in terror, experiencing pain and confusion, and having their lives snuffed out. He fed off it, drank from it, and was drunk on it. He probably should have been paying more attention to the reason why he was here – Armitage Hux – but there seemed no need for it. Sidious knew what would happen next, so he might as well be entertained in the meantime.

More people died. Escape pods were jettisoning from the ship before him. He didn't give any specific orders for them to be targeted, but the gunners aboard the _Allegiance_ (the ship he was on) did so automatically as an extension of his will. The other ships in his nascent fleet were more reticent. He made note of that, though he hadn't decided what he would do about it.

He had this nagging feeling something important was happening with Hux. There were so many other lives in disarray that even at the short range, all he could easily tell was that Hux was alive and present. Previously, it had seemed enough, but there had been no offer of surrender or attempt at negotiation. The man was supposedly clever. Sidious bent his mind in Hux's direction and then chuckled as he sensed Hux's intent.

"Escape?" he sniggered. "There is no esc-" Hux's mind winked out of existence. Sidious froze in place. The gunners stopped without him giving the order. A moment later, he whirled to General Pryde, already feeling a strain that could only be explained by Hux's death or absence. Neither was acceptable. The last thing he'd sensed was Hux losing consciousness, which made death the more likely of the two. But that wasn't possible. Was it? "Search the ship! Find General Hux and bring him to me. Alive!"

Feeling his tenuous grasp on reality beginning to inevitably unravel, he added with a snarl, "Return the _Allegiance_ to the Hosnian system immediately and have the others conduct the search."


	19. Rey 3

[Rey]

* * *

Time stopped between one moment and the next. The Force was still there, even here where nothing and everything existed. According to the text she'd read, time and space were false concepts anyway. The Force gave meaning to both as the matrix within which all life existed. They were threads in a three-dimensional tapestry … or something like that. She'd fallen asleep about then, a few days ago, trying to keep her mind off the events on the _Supremacy_ and somehow be the good Jedi she thought she was supposed to be.

She … wasn't a very good Jedi. She wasn't even sure she _wanted_ to be a very good Jedi, which had a lot to do with not _actually_ being a good one. But everyone thought she was. They even called her 'the last Jedi' which was ridiculous but she didn't want to take away people's hope. They all seemed to expect great things from her. And while she was capable of great things, being 'great', renowned, or some kind of savior wasn't what she wanted in life.

But at the moment, she was about to be all three. She could touch Kylo, faintly, through the Force. His mind still called itself Ben to her, but he was who he was regardless of label. They were linked even here, in this timeless space she was drifting in now. She knew how they'd reached here. She could see their path forward.

She knew that when they left the hangar (they had already left it), they'd be struck by a turbo laser aiming at a careening life pod (a laser which had already fired). It wasn't even an intentional strike against their ship – or rather, it wouldn't be, or hadn't been. That should have made it easier to deflect, without a life force actively guiding it. Instead, it was like an immutable law, one of the things you couldn't change, but could only change how you reacted to it.

In this case, the starship battery felt too immense to block entirely. She couldn't deflect it. There wasn't enough room to deflect the ship (and not enough time left to maneuver, plus Poe would likely resist her if he tried to interfere with his piloting). That left absorbing it, which was something she knew could be done. Theoretically. It was within Kylo's knowledge of the Force and what he knew, she knew.

But he'd never done it in a life or death situation. Even Kylo tended opted for the more reliable and known paths of stopping the bolt, skewing the aim, or bouncing the thing back with his lightsaber. She touched Ben's mind again. _I need your power. I need your guidance. I need you to be with me in this. I need _you_._

His thoughts were sluggish to respond. She'd forgotten that for her, time was stopped. For him, it was still moving. She would have only fractions of a second after time began flowing for her. It wasn't enough for them to have a conversation, not even to ask him to stop time with her and discuss it. She cleared her mind and took what she needed.


	20. Hux 4

[Hux]

* * *

Hux's memories and awareness were disjointed – pain, warmth, brilliant light, noise, weight on him, Poe's voice: "We're coming in hot!", Ren's: "I've got it.", Poe: "It won't-!" Noise and vibration, pain and dullness.

He woke up to find a body resting on his. It wasn't nearly as unpleasant as it should have been. His head was aching, though. He felt like a bell that had been rung.

Poe: "Power's out. You got anything?"

Ren, his voice weak: "No. We lost a wing."

Poe: "You okay over there?"

Ren: A pause, then a strained, "Yes."

Hux looked blearily at the curly black hair a few inches from his face. It was the top of FN-2187's head, he realized. So that was who was lying on him. The situation became less pleasant and more annoying instantly. He shoved the man off.

"Huh?" the former trooper said.

Hux took the opportunity to kick him while he was at it.

"Hey!" That woke him up.

"What's going on back there?" Poe asked, looking over his shoulder. He'd been sensibly strapped in and was fine.

"He kicked me!" FN-2187 complained.

"You were on top of me!" Hux retorted.

"I was-"

"Stow it, you two," Poe said with a disbelieving laugh. "Finn, stay off the general. Hux … be nice, okay, babe? We're in a tough spot right now."

Sitting up, Hux peered in the direction of Poe's voice, not sure whether to be outraged about being called 'babe' or … continue to experience this weird feeling about someone speaking of him that way. He looked to this 'Finn' to judge how he was supposed to respond, but the former stormtrooper just rolled his eyes and rubbed at his hip where Hux had kicked him. They both got to their feet. The deck was canted nose down. Ren, in the co-pilot's seat, had his head in his hands. His hair was screening his face, but he otherwise seemed fine – strapped in, breathing normally.

"Where are we?" FN-2187 asked. Through the viewport, they could both see an expanse of vertical columns of fuzzy green with a pink and orange sheen. Blue and green fronds covered the ground. Some manner of plant life, it appeared. Hux assumed this meant they were on a planet. He must have missed a lot while he was unconscious. The control panels were dark, so unless they'd passed a several click-high label for the planet's name on their way down, he doubted anyone knew.

He went in the main compartment to check on his people.


	21. Teller 1

[Teller]

* * *

For FN-9013, the crash itself was a non-event. More interesting was the experience of the Force during it. The Force was something she often included in the stories she'd tell to the squad at night in their bunks, but in those stories, it was an evil magic used by villains and renegades. It was a power that corrupted by its very nature. Only the strongest and purest of heart could wield it without giving in to its corruption. Or so she told the others.

It was just something she'd made up. Lots of things were made-up when you were in the Order. Like the rumors that Snoke and the Knights of Ren could use the Force, too? Made-up.

She'd felt the ship's initial acceleration as they left the hangar bay and then a feeling of floating. There was a flash of light that seemed to phase through the entire ship. Suspended motes of dust shone in the light of that perfect moment. She'd assumed they were all dead or dying and this was some last gasp of consciousness, maybe wishful thinking. It seemed as reasonable an explanation as any.

One of the Resistance members shone even brighter in the light. It was the one who had been first up the ramp and was dressed as a colonel. Her name was … Rey, wasn't it? Her eyes were closed. She looked serene. Centered. FN-9013 couldn't have said how she knew, but she definitely _did_ know, that this woman was using the Force to protect all of them. She was shielding them somehow, letting the scorching power of a turbo laser pass right through the shuttle, through their bodies, but leaving them untouched instead of incinerated.

There was nothing corrupt about it. FN-9013 felt sanctified by it somehow, like Supreme Leader Snoke himself (honored be his memory) had blessed this mission and given them a new life. The light faded and they were engulfed by darkness – a peaceful, protective, comforting darkness. They still floated. There was a roaring sound of atmospheric entry, but it seemed unreal without the vibration of it through the soles of her boots. Finally, there was a bang, a shriek of protesting metal, and cacophony of other impact sounds. It was just noise without threat, like a simulation. They remained safely cocooned, every one of them.

She felt herself settle on the floor again, but it was no longer level. It was still dead dark, the glow having faded from even the woman. Reality came back. She could hear people moving around, probably finding walls and whoever was near them. The non-hairy alien complained about the dark and the emergency lights came up as though in response. TN-1017 had his helmet off and upside down in his hands, looking in it.

The first sergeant looked to him and asked, "Ten-ten?"

He explained, "Night vision auto setting not working."

The hatch to the forward compartment swished open and General Hux appeared. His hair was somewhat askew and his uniform rumpled, but he had the same commanding aura as always. FN-9013 drew herself to attention along with the rest of them, the strange, surreal, and fantastical elements of their transit still swirling in her head. Her stories would never be the same.


	22. Hux 5

[Hux]

* * *

Emergency lights had come on, but they operated on individual batteries separate from the main power. Everyone in the main compartment looked remarkably well considering the degree of being slammed around he'd experienced. Hux asked, "Report. Injuries?"

The first sergeant answered, "None, sir." One other stormtroopers had his helmet off and was checking something inside it. Seeing Hux, he donned it again hurriedly.

Hux looked at the Resistance members, who were similarly unscathed. It was a mystery. The smallest human, the woman he'd ordered executed on the _Supremacy_, asked, "What happened? Are we still in hyperspace?" She was dressed as a navy captain.

"No, we're planetside," he answered despite how improper it was for an insubordinate to question a superior officer. It was fittingly offensive that the Resistance had stolen high-ranking uniforms. "Crashed." He looked to the floor and considered the probable layout for the power couplings.

The young woman dressed as a colonel moved by him into the forward compartment.


	23. Rey 4

[Rey]

* * *

"Kylo?" Rey said as soon as the door shut behind her. She spared a quick glance to Poe and Finn, who were pressing buttons and trying to get a response from consoles on their side of the compartment. She put a hand on Kylo's shoulder, but it was little different from touching a bulkhead – softer and warmer, yes, but just an object.

He lifted his head. "Rey."

"I- I can't feel you in the Force. I can't feel anything. What happened?" And then it hit her. The words tumbled out, "You cut me off. You ended the-" He looked at her so blankly she wondered if he even understood what she was saying. "I didn't know that was possible."

"The bond?" he said.

"Yes. Because I took …" Her hand fell away from him. Was this what he'd felt on Crait, when she'd tried (and failed) to cut him off?

He shook his head slowly. "No. The bond still exists. We overtaxed ourselves."

"Oh," she said in a small voice, rummaging through what she knew of the Force, most of which was from Kylo. "I- I thought that killed people."

"Become one with the Force," he corrected in a tired voice, massaging one temple. "And yes, we should have."

"Oh," she said again, subdued. Had she nearly killed them both by tapping into his connection to the Force in addition to her own? "But … we would have died anyway if I hadn't …"

He gave her an odd, lingering look. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I didn't?"

He spoke slowly. "If we're truly partners …" He raised his brows slightly, hopefully.

She glanced behind her at Poe and Finn, who had chosen this moment to be done with their attempts at getting the system to work. They'd turned to face Rey and Kylo. She turned her back on them and changed the subject somewhat. "How long will this last?"

"I don't know." He stood up, carefully resting his hands on her shoulders. They were big hands.

She drew in a big breath and exhaled, feeling the weight on her shoulders lift and return with the motion. Partners. She stuffed that to the side for the moment. "We're blind then," she said, lips tightening in worry. "To the First Order. We won't be able to see them coming."

"We got nothing over here," Finn interjected with frustration and his own worry. "We're not going to get anything from the scanners, either. I'm going to see how the others are." He went out the door, letting them hear an angry Rose saying, 'All you're doing is standing there' followed by Finn asking, 'What's going on?' The door shut behind him. The three left in the forward compartment looked at the now-shut door, then at each other.

"Huh," Poe said unhelpfully, although it did sum up how Rey felt about what she'd heard. "Neither of you, uh, can use the Force right now?"

Kylo didn't answer. Rey turned and nodded. "I- I think that's how it is for right now."

"Huh," he said again, looking across the unlit control boards.

"I suppose we could always kill each other first and save Sidious the trouble," Rey grumbled.

Kylo said slowly, "Snoke couldn't find Luke when he had removed himself from the Force. Maybe Sidious won't be able to see where we've gone."

She raised her brows and tilted her head, twisting her lips in a moue. "This is a breather of some kind, then?"

"It could be." Kylo patted her shoulder. The contact was a comfort, even if strange to her, then he stepped past her and out the door.

"We still have to worry about each other, though," she rejoined to the closed door.

"I have a plan for that," Poe said.

"You do?"

"Yeah."

She decided not to mention how Poe's last big plan had ended up with a mutiny, the ship she was on blasted in two, and most of the Resistance dead. Before that, he'd been instrumental in blowing up the entire planet she was on. She'd escaped both times due solely by the grace of the Force, which she didn't have right now. She went out to see what the others were doing.


	24. Hux 6

[Hux]

* * *

The woman speaking to Hux continued, "Is Finn okay?"

He raised his head. "Finn?" He'd heard the name Poe had used, but wasn't sure if that was a public name or something private between the two of them, like Poe calling him, 'Babe'. They'd escaped the _Finalizer_ together when Poe had been taken prisoner over Jakku, so Hux assumed there was a relationship there of some kind.

"The former stormtrooper I was with on the _Supremacy_." There was an edge to her voice. A couple of the stormtroopers shifted, their blasters swinging to point somewhere near her feet because people weren't supposed to speak to him that way. She ignored them. "The one you were going to execute with me."

"Oh. Yes. The traitor. He's fine." He tried to go back to his thoughts on the power system.

"His name is _Finn_."

Hux made an exasperated noise because yes, he'd gathered from the way she was talking that he was allowed to call FN-2187 that and was probably supposed to. He wasn't _that_ dense to social cues, though perhaps she was if she was. "_And_ he is a traitor. Yes, I caught that part. Stop interrupting me! This is important."

"I'm not interrupting you!" she said with outrage. "All you're doing is standing there."

Finn came out from the forward compartment and looked around. "What's going on?"

"He keeps calling you a traitor instead of using your name."

"I'm stating a fact!" Hux said.

Finn addressed him. "Well, I could start calling you other stuff, too. Hugs."

"I'm not mocking your name! I never did!" Though he was now declining to use the name because he was being insulting and FN-2187 _was_ a traitor. But in any case, he'd now completely lost track of his earlier musings on the power system and needed to start over. The milling crowd made him hesitate. At least the stormtroopers were behaving themselves. Their weapons were at loose ready, waiting for the command to act.

Ren came out of the forward compartment, moving Finn aside, which meant Hux had to move or make contact with the man. The ship was not made to carry this many people. Ren looked around with a scowl. "What's going on?"

Hux barely contained himself from growling about Ren coming in and asking the exact same question as Finn. The door slid shut behind him, meaning that Poe and the woman-dressed-as-a-colonel would probably come out to repeat the pattern even further.

"All I was asking is what happened," said the persistently annoying smaller woman. Come to think of it, he'd ordered the execution of all three of these people – her, Finn, and Ren. It was a shame none of them were dead yet. There was still time to arrange something. He had a firing squad on hand, after all. He assessed the room and took a few steps to the side.

FN-2187 (or Finn, he supposed) glanced around and followed him, sticking close. It meant the firing lines were messed up. Which on second thought, was probably why Finn was stuck to his ass all of a sudden. He'd been an exemplary cadet and an officer candidate, Hux recalled. But again, he was letting himself be distracted from the important issue. Hux pinched the bridge of his nose and moved aft. Most of the linkages he needed were there. Finn followed on his heels. Hux didn't object. It was probably suicidal to attack Ren in any case.

Ren explained to the others, "We took a direct hit just as we went into hyperspace. It overloaded the shields and changed our vector from the programmed route. A gravity well pulled us out and we crashed. I can't tell anything else right now. There's plant life."

"Is the atmosphere breathable?" she asked.

"Asinine question," Hux muttered. "How would he know with the sensors out?" Louder, he said, "You, alien. Off. Go over there." He gestured sharply for the creature to move aside.

To his surprise, it sunk thick fingers into the fabric of his tunic and lifted him right off the floor. It was just as strong as it looked. "I do not follow orders from-"

Hux had a knife out in a second and Finn hanging unhelpfully on his arm a second later.

"No! No!" Finn pushed on the alien, who released its grip, dropping Hux to the floor where he stumbled with Finn's weight still pulling at him. Hux whipped his arm free of Finn's interference once he had his feet again. Finn wedged himself directly between the two, a hand out toward each of them, acting oblivious to the fact that Hux was perfectly willing to cut him down as well. "Stop. Stop."

The compartment was suddenly quiet. Hux glanced around. All the stormtrooper blasters were pointed in their direction, but no one had fired, probably due to close proximity. He looked back to Finn. Interestingly, he noted, Finn didn't think Hux would stab him. More fool he, but at the moment Finn was a useful buffer.

Calmly, he said to Finn, "If we do not restore power soon, we will all find out the hard way if the outside atmosphere can support us. The air inside is already getting stuffy without circulation. Move off the floor panel. The equipment I need to access is under it."

The alien said angrily, "You could have said that instead of being impolite!"

"I would argue with you, but you're not worth it," Hux snapped back, arguing with it anyway.

"What did you say?" The brute shook a fist at him even though he was perfectly intelligible and also right there if the creature wanted to make things physical again. Finn was still between them, making Hux glad he hadn't stabbed him. Hux put away his knife to demonstrate how little the thing's bleating concerned him. The troopers shifted, blasters pointing at the floor now.

Finn stepped off the panel with his hands raised in conciliation at the alien. They moved to the side, with the alien complaining to Finn, "Poe can say that man is in charge, but no one else agreed with this. He consulted no one. It does not count."

Finn's response was perfect logic for the First Order: "Someone has to be in charge. He has the stormtroopers. The only way this works is if it's him."

Hux went to his knees and pried up the panel. Moving it was a job better suited to two people. He was surprised when the smaller woman took the other side and helped him prop it up. She knelt on the opposite side of the opening. "What do we got?"

He was uncertain of her intent, then decided to treat her as a fellow engineer. He said, "The ship has plenty of power. It's just not on. Ren mentioned we lost a wing. Whatever did that must have torn the linkages."

"So the plug's been pulled," she said. "We're looking for loose components."

"Exactly." Hux reached in, grabbing things and giving them a shake to see if they were loose.

"What is that there?" she asked, pointing. "Is that flash-char?"

He could hardly see it in the dim compartment, but he moved what she was referencing anyway. The component was limned with black on the panel under it. "So this overloaded. The break must be down-current from here."

"That would be … this way." She pointed the direction. He knew that perfectly well, but didn't say anything. He just checked the next module in line. She reached down and rattled the conduit beyond that. "This shouldn't be loose," she said. "It's along this cable. Do you have a repair kit?"

"Aft."

"I'll get it." That was from Finn, who moved past them and through the hatch to the rear compartment. He had finished talking to the alien, who was now glowering at Hux but saying nothing. The Wookiee was standing next to it, similarly silent.

He turned back to business. The woman had leaned forward and down, getting her head into the opening in the floor and following the conduit. She looked unbalanced, since she was 'uphill' on the ship and leaning down, whereas Hux was 'downhill' and better situated. Hux put a careful hand on her shoulder. At the touch, she stopped and looked up at him. He said, "I'll brace you in case you fall."

"Oh." She looked at his hand again, then leaned back in, letting him support her. "What I really need is a light."

He turned to one of the troopers. "Survival kit. Get a light." With his free hand, he pointed at the space under a console. "They should be in one of those cabinets."

Finn was back with the repair kit at the same time as the trooper handed Hux a light. In a moment, he and the woman were on the floor with tools, both their heads poked into the ship's innards as they followed the cabling. They had to pull up another panel. The Wookiee moved when the woman asked it nicely – and it was indeed named Chewbacca; Hux kept his mouth shut this time. They found where the shearing off of the wing had yanked the central power couplings out of alignment. A single adjustment later and a pleasing, subtle background hum told him they had power again. The air freshened moments after that.

The woman said, "If we end up going somewhere, we'll need to properly terminate that instead of just isolating the damage."

"I agree, but, 'if'," Hux said. "We don't have welding gear, so let's see what the rest of the damage is before we try to techit. That overloaded panel goes to the shields. We might be able to get them back if we can replace whatever burned out."

"Okay," she said. "What's 'techit'?"

He looked at her blankly, because it was like asking what the shields were. "When a technician is assigned to repair something that can't be repaired." There was a wealth of background he didn't know how to quickly convey about a class structure that privileged the military and required, at threat of death, obedience and success from the technician class. It meant getting an impossible order like that could be a death sentence for insubordination. Which led to … some really inventive 'repairs' at times. (And at other times, fragging.) "It's, ah, to repair something with insufficient resources. To make do."

"Oh. Okay. I'm used to doing that in the Resistance."

He gave her a small, genuine smile, because he severely doubted she'd had to work under the conditions the Order imposed on its people. "We may yet have need of those skills."


	25. Rey 5

[Rey]

* * *

Rey joined Kylo in the main compartment to watch as Hux and Rose worked together surprisingly well, with Finn handing them tools and occasionally holding the light. Chewbacca and C'ai stayed out of the way next to the closed ramp. Kaydel had gone forward to talk with Poe in low tones, making sure he'd tried the various workarounds he and Finn had attempted earlier. The stormtroopers stood at loose alert, blasters in hand but not targeting anyone.

Rey sank slowly against Kylo's side, feeling his warmth and solidity. Without asking or being asked, he wound his arm around her shoulders, wrapping his cloak around her. She breathed out heavily. It felt so good. It was the closest, physically, they'd ever been. Their in-person contact, before now, had been practical. Even those touches in the forward compartment had been (at least on Rey's part) Rey checking to see if direct contact let her sense their bond.

It was strange, then, to rest against him without that Force resonance looming up between them. Maybe even better this way, letting them just be two people instead of Jedi or Force users – instead of carrying all the pressure and tension of the mission, and taking sides, and violently trying to kill one another. But she couldn't forget all that yet. Rey tipped her head up, words low and pitched for Kylo alone. "Why _is _he here?"

She didn't need to identify him. Kylo knew she meant Hux. "Poe said the future is what we make it. He doesn't think anyone, even _him_, should be given up as a lost cause."

Her eyes flicked over his expressive face. She suspected Poe's opinion had been formed from Kylo's own turn. Perhaps he'd said as much. Kylo might not speak of it, but she thought she could see it on his face. "And you?" she asked, seeing the guarded way he met her eyes. "Do you still believe the visions?" Plural. She meant the ones about them as well as the one they'd shared about Hux.

"Yes," he said after a pause.

She sighed, trying to find the peace Jedi were supposed to have. She saw glimmers of it in Kylo, in how he accepted the future they'd seen as immutable and inevitable. He was calm about it. Unhappy, but calm. It was enough to make her wonder if someday, years ago, the Force had showed him that he would walk a dark path. Had he followed it blindly, thinking there was no other way? Or was it just waking up to find Luke about to kill him that did it, and assuming the Force was working through his master?

Did that mean he thought their bond was just as fated as all the rest? Too many questions and no answers. She'd have to be patient. For now, leaning against him, waiting didn't seem too difficult. She let her head tip to the side, resting it against his chest. Kylo's fingers tightened around her shoulder.


	26. Hux 7

[Hux]

* * *

The woman helping Hux asked, "Do all generals in the First Order know how to do ship repair?"

"It's an uncommon trait," Hux grumbled and looked away after dropping the floor panel into place. He didn't want to talk about it. He got to his feet and brushed his gloves against one another.

"Some have said it was a disqualifying one," Ren said in a low voice, but everyone was being quiet, probably contemplating the situation and waiting for the other shoe to drop. Even though Ren was on the opposite side of the main compartment, it carried. Since his previous rumblings to the woman with him had not, this had to be intentional – the appearance of quiet, but not really.

Hux didn't bother with being quiet. "Since you're going to bring it up, 'some' have found themselves doing police duty at Krevens Harborworks. Perhaps they might learn not to speak out of turn while they're there!" Ren had his arm around the woman dressed as a colonel, his cloak around her shoulders protectively. Hux's brows drew together as his eyes darted between them at this unexpected intimacy.

If Ren noticed the way Hux was looking at them, he didn't show it. "Your father didn't end up doing police duty."

Hux's voice turned icy. "You tread on dangerous ground, Ren."

"I always do," Ren said. The woman took a step to the side, parting from him.

Hux noticed a lightsaber hanging from her belt. He decided whatever was between the two of them wasn't new; no one else was questioning it. Speaking of which: "Do you have a question or are you wasting my time?"

"Just an observation: You are not what your father intended you to be."

"He's dead. What he intended is irrelevant." He looked around, but there was nowhere to go. The ship was abominably cramped. He gave orders to Ren, partly to see if he'd follow them and mostly to shut him up about this bizarre desire to discuss their murdered fathers in front of an audience. "Go see if the sensor array is working. If the air is breathable, then we won't have to be packed in here so tightly." Wonder of wonders, Ren shrugged and did as he was told.

The Wookiee warbled something that Hux decided was agreement even though he knew nothing of the language. Hux followed Ren to the forward compartment, bypassing the discussion of the others about the room Finn had gone into to get the repair kit, and was now returning the kit to. Leave it to these savages to be amazed by the sight of a compact refresher and a pair of narrow bunks.


	27. Rose 1

[Rose]

* * *

"Oh!" Rose said as the door slid open to the rear compartment. "There's a whole 'nother room in here." It was small, but surprising. She assumed there were cargo holds underneath, but they would be half-height at best, even for her. She hadn't had a chance to look around on the shuttle they'd stolen from the _Supremacy_.

Finn gestured to one side, giving a tour. "Two fold-out bunks. Med-kit." He waved to the other side. "Refresher."

She stopped to look at the facilities, bracing herself against the still-tilted wall. It had a tiny shower, a pull-out sink on one side and a pull-out commode on the other. If you had them both out at the same time, the sink was in your lap. She doubted any of it could be used at their current angle – not without adjusting the internal gravity field to override that of the planet. But they would see to the leveling of the ship. "How many people is a shuttle like this equipped to support?"

"I think four crew and eight passengers maximum, but I'm not sure. Normally it's just a pilot and two or three people."

"There are only two beds."

Finn nodded. "You hardly ever carry the full complement. But if you have to, you can have three eight hour shifts for four people." He picked up the corner of one of the bunk mattresses. "See, these are doubled. If you need extra, peel them apart, and the lower ranks get to sleep on the floor. That makes twelve."

"In shifts?" She thought that through, immediately finding a flaw. "That means two of them are trying to sleep on the floor out there while the rest of the ship is up and awake."

Finn didn't seem to see the issue. "Yeah? It's the military."

"How do you function without proper sleep?"

"Not very well. But you still function. You have to. You have to do your duty." He acted like he was having to describe why water was wet.

She sighed and put a hand on his cheek. "I'm glad you're out of there."

"We're going to end this war," he told her. "Somehow. No matter where we are."

"Stranded on a deserted planet?" Her hand dropped to his chest.

He smiled at her in a way that was a bit roguish. It was a good look on him, but Rose thought most things were a good look on him. Finn said, "Anywhere, anytime."


	28. Hux 8

[Hux]

* * *

Given a choice of where to stand, Hux took up a position at Poe's shoulder, bracing himself against the chair. Ren slid into the other seat. Dameron said, "Engines are in good shape. Hyperdrive's functional. We're missing a wing and maneuvering thrusters on that side. Not flyable at this point. Shields overloaded. One of the weapons systems isn't reporting. Long-range sensors are down. Short range are glitching. Main computer's fine. Communications seem to be working, the indicators say so, but I'm not picking up anything. Isn't the comm system stored in the wings with the sensors?"

Ren nodded. "We may be off-grid."

"You don't pick up anything at all?" Hux asked. "Not even natives?"

Poe splayed his hands out palm up. "Nothing. But! Good news, the air is breathable. Life forms are close enough to us to be compatible. I mean," he gestured out the viewport, "you can tell that by looking at them."

Hux sighed. "I want to get outside and get an eye's-on evaluation of the damage."

"Agreed," Poe said, getting to his feet.

Given the way the ship was pitched, the ramp didn't extend to the ground. It was a side-opening ship – _Upsilon_-class shuttles varied in design and Hux had simply chosen the nearest one that looked fast, well-shielded, and big enough for the people he had with him. It was better than the troop carriers and TIE fighters that had been their other choices.

"Let the troopers go first," Hux told him as Poe went down the ramp before it was even fully extended.

Blaster in hand, he looked around. "Nah," Poe said. "I won't make anyone do something I wouldn't." He jumped to the ground below. "But then again, I'm willing to do just about anything. If I have to." His voice trailed off as he skulked out of sight.

Hux sighed. His head hurt – though whether from being concussed or the situation, he couldn't tell. Probably both. He was torn between a desire to follow protocol and a desire not to look like a coward. Nothing had killed the pilot so far. Hux went second, leaving his hands free in case he needed to catch himself. The four troopers behind him provided overwatch and came down in pairs after he'd moved out of the way.

Poe glanced up at them after the first set of two jumped off the ramp. "And here I thought we were going to have a little alone time."

Hux hesitated, pursing his lips at the pilot's wistful tone, same as he'd given on the _Finalizer_ when Hux had thought he was babbling. It sounded so kriffing sincere, but Finn had ignored it like it was de rigor. "You'd like that?" Hux said when Poe finally looked over to him for a response.

"I wouldn't mind it. I can tell you that much."

"Forgive me for remaining concerned that being alone with Resistance members wouldn't be good for my health." He took a few steps to the side, ostensibly to better view the ship's hull but he was watching Poe's reaction instead.

Poe shrugged a little. "That's smart, but … I'm not going to do anything. At least not like that."

"Then what would you do?"

Poe waggled his brows, shot his eyes briefly in the direction of the four stormtroopers who currently stood back to back to cover all directions, and shrugged one shoulder in a twitch. "We can talk about that later." He waved the blaster upward, pointing with it at the most damaged part of the shuttle. It was a weird way to point at things (dangerous and stupid), but it was the same gesture Poe had used on the _Finalizer_. Maybe he'd just picked up bad habits somewhere. "Based on that," Poe said, "we're going to be here a while."

Poe lifted his comm and narrated for the benefit of those inside. "Right wing is missing. Looks like a combination of blasted and sheared. I'm not sure how that happened, because I didn't feel it go during descent."

Ren's voice over the comm said, "It happened as soon as we hit the surface."

"Hm, okay. Must have been damaged to start with." Ren made no answer to that. Hux was left to assume they'd taken damage after launch. He moved closer to get a better look. Poe went on. "Anyway, the maneuvering jets on this side are shot."

"Literally," Hux said, stripping his glove and touching the bare hull with his hand for a better feel. "Whatever we were hit with during or before the jump to hyperspace was concentrated here. It did enough damage to the superstructure that the impact finished the separation. You can see how the metal is rippled and feel the surface irregularities. Maybe an out of phase turbo laser?" It was preposterously lucky that they'd been hit with a malfunctioning weapon. Under other circumstances, this would be a fascinating case study. He put his glove back on. This was not the time for such frivolity.

Poe continued, "We're up on a couple trees in the aft. I think we'd do better if one of you got down here with a lightsaber and cut those down so we were level. Might put down the landing gear first, but it won't reach. The ground seems pretty stable. Little punky, but stable. And raise the ramp after you get down, so we don't jam it or buckle it when we settle. That should get all the damaged areas down where we can work on them. It won't fly without the maneuvering jets. We're just an unbalanced rocket right now with only the main thrusters working."

The woman in the colonel's outfit hopped off the ramp, but it stayed lowered. Hux moved where he could see her as Poe went to the other side of the ship to see the intact wing. Hux pointed at two stormtroopers, then after Poe. The pair peeled off to cover him. Poe's narration stopped for a long moment as the troopers joined him ("Hey guys. How you doing?" No answer from the troopers), then continued.


	29. Rey 6

[Rey]

* * *

As soon as Rey was outside, she could see what the problem was. Two trunks were bent over with the ship sitting atop them, tilted nose-down at a sharp angle. The trunks themselves weren't broken, just bent, and scraped deeply. The furrow into the trunk showed a brownish-pink interior presently oozing with red sap that looked like blood.

She looked back at where they'd crashed, expecting to see a path of destruction. While it didn't look pretty, it was better than she'd expected. Trees were already standing themselves back up, so rapidly she could see the process in action. Even impacted with the momentum and shearing power of the shuttle, very few of the plants (?) had broken. All of them were similar in shape, a little bigger around than her waist, and unbranched except for the tuft of fronds at the top.

It looked like they hadn't hit the ground until right here at the end, which had been something she and Kylo had jointly used the Force to achieve. Once the wing had gone, the ship would have cartwheeled until it came apart and they all died – had they not intervened. So instead, they'd skimmed a very long distance, bleeding off momentum as their connection with the Force dwindled.

She turned back to the two trees that were a problem. They looked to be under a lot of tension. If she cut them … if she stood behind them that would be dangerous, but to the sides or in front would put her under the ship, which was even worse (especially with no Force to catch it or get out of the way). She wondered if there was a way to peel them out to the sides?

She looked over to see the orange-haired general watching her intently, two stormtroopers behind him, one facing her, the other facing away to guard his back. "What are you doing?" she asked him.

"You'll be using the Force?" he asked, not answering her question.

"No."

"Why not? You could just lift the ship."

Damn. It was as though he knew, already, that she couldn't do that. But his voice wasn't mocking. It was wary. She gave a tired sigh and turned back to the ship, trying to decide if they could maybe, somehow, tilt the ship one way to get one trunk out and then the other way to get the other. But the one remaining wing severely unbalanced the vessel. There was nothing here to be used as a fulcrum or a lever.

Hux tried again. "Are you … You are Rey, the scavenger from Jakku, correct?"

She gave him a side-eye, then glanced down at herself. The disguise had been good enough to fool everyone she'd encountered aboard the _Finalizer_. It really wasn't a stretch to imagine that it made it difficult for him to place her as well, since he'd never even seen her in person until now. She supposed this was confirmation that he'd seen footage of her, somehow. Were holos taken while she was unconscious after Takodana? "Yes," she answered. "You weren't in the main compartment when introductions were given, were you?"

He shook his head.

"I'm Rey. The woman you were doing repairs with is Rose. Chewbacca is the Wookiee. C'ai is the Abednedo. And Kaydel's the other woman."

"That helps," he said grudgingly. "You can use the Force, correct?"

Normally, yes. She sighed again. "I'm not going to use the Force to get the ship off these … trees."

He took a few steps closer, looking less uptight than he had before. She recalled he'd acted like a normal person when working with Rose and not like the power-mad tyrant she'd heard he was (then again, she'd been told the entire First Order was power-mad; and Kylo didn't seem too upset with him). He asked, "What is your plan then?"

She pursed her lips and decided to stop treating him like he lived up to the reputation. "These look elastic – these trunks. They're very flexible. That means we have them under tension right now. Cutting them would be dangerous. If we could just slide the ship off them." She moved under the ship – a dangerous place to be, but she needed to get a better look.

He stayed outside the shadow of the vessel. "Commander Dameron characterized the ship as a rocket. The main engines still work. What about clearing space in front of it and pushing it forward?"

"With the thrusters?" She was seeing what she'd hoped along the underbelly of the ship – the trunks weren't snagged on anything. She could see viscous sap along the deep gouges they'd put into what might be bark, the skin of the trees, but it hadn't had a chance to solidify. It smelled funny, reminding her of coolant or lubricant.

"Yes."

"We'd have to clear a lot of space," she said. "There's a lot of trunk trapped under the ship."

"The tension will only increase if you shift the weight to the end. But you could still cut it then, more safely."

Looking forward, she didn't see that they had enough space to move the ship enough to get it off the trees entirely. But maybe he was right and they didn't need it all the way off. She pulled out her comm. "Kylo?"

"Yes?" his voice came over the comm link clearly.

"Can you activate the engines and move the ship forward as far as it will go, until it's against the trunks ahead of it?"

"We're pointed downward right now," Kylo said. "Activating the main thrusters will nose us into the ground."

"Are the stabilizers working? The repulsors?"

"Sometimes they're sectional on the bigger shuttles. Let me see what I can do."

During the pause, Hux asked, "Are you doing this now?"

"Yes."

He turned to the troopers with him. "Signal the other two. Make sure they and Commander Dameron are clear." One nodded and touched under the jawline of their helmet. Hux and the two troopers moved back.

Kylo came back. "I can, but it will be sloppy. I can't … adjust."

She knew what he meant – he couldn't use the Force the finesse things. "I trust your piloting under any circumstances."

"I appreciate the vote of confidence. Are you clear?"

"Yes." She was probably standing much closer than she should be, but she stayed there. Kylo pulled in the ramp. What little vegetation there was under the ship flattened. The shuttle's nose lifted. The engines in the rear roared to life briefly, then throttled down as the ship lurched forward inelegantly under their power. She hoped the inertial dampeners were working, otherwise everyone would have been thrown to the floor with a jerk like that. It moved forward again and then again, slewing in the start of a corkscrew motion for the last one as the remaining wing snagged a tree and rotated the craft around it.

"That's good!" she shouted into the comm over the noise of the engines, the hot wash from them almost stealing her voice. "That's fine!"

What he'd accomplished had gotten the bases of the bent tree trunks out from under the ship. She could cut them now without having to be under the ship or directly behind them. The ship settled back to rest and powered down. She went to the trunk most completely trapped under the ship, where she figured most of the weight of the ship was being carried.

She powered on her lightsaber, chose a position, and sliced into it, a few hand's-breadths above the soil-line. It had seemed simple enough. The trunk cut easily like any pulpy wood might. But then hot sap spurted out like she'd cut an artery. The trunk collapsed and the ship listed heavily to port even more than she'd expected. Then the ground shook like a quake and a deep moan emanated from underneath. She barely kept her balance. The other trapped trunk snaked its way out from under the ship like it was living, mobile thing. It swayed upward, slow and silent as the shivering of the ground faded.

She looked over at Hux, whose eyes were big. He'd grabbed onto one of the trees for support, now seemed to realize what he was holding and jerked away from it as the ground stabilized. Beside her, the shuttle listed back to starboard, hitting the ground with a soft whump. Landing gear extended and lifted the ship, going through a normal self-leveling operation.

"Well," she said, "that was interesting." In the background, she could hear Poe talking excitedly. Assuming he was already on the comm channel, she didn't bother trying to cut in.

Hux came to her, looking at her in concern. "Are you alright?"

She looked down to see the red sap that had struck her had left her looking spattered with blood. Super-heated by the lightsaber blade (and without the Force to protect her from such minor things as spatter), it had blistered her where it had hit bare skin on her upper arms. She peeled the largest blob off with a wince. "I'll be fine." He made a disbelieving noise. Or maybe it was concerned. Her eyes rose to his. "Are you worried for me?"

He _was_. Amazingly, considering who he was. She smiled as she saw it on his face even as he realized his expression was giving too much away. He schooled it back to something less telling. "You're more useful to me alive than dead," he said stiffly and too loud for their proximity, like he was speaking for the benefit of the two stormtroopers who lingered behind him.

She laughed at how transparent he was. He turned away and stalked back to the troopers, leaving her to wonder if Poe might be right.


	30. Hux 9

[Hux]

* * *

He was in a sour mood now. The trees weren't trees. The ground might be alive. And the Jedi had laughed at him for checking to see if she'd been poisoned by the tree sap. She had been harmed and she was a valuable asset nominally under his command, so why she would think his concern was laughable was beyond him. Or so he told himself.

The ramp came down and with it, the Wookiee. Or 'Chewbacca', he supposed. Following him were four stormtroopers. The hairy beast turned to growl something menacing at them. The two in front raised their shoulders in a tense posture. After a pause, Chewbacca yipped something as though he understood the body language and moved out of the way. Hux walked over to the staff sergeant as denoted by the black pauldron with white barring on the edge. "Report."

"Physical inventory complete, sir. Ship is stocked with standard gear for four-person crew, ten cycles. Cargo compartments are empty. Life support, water reclamation, and air recycling systems all functional. No communications."

"No comm capability, or no signal?"

"Unknown."

"Weapons?"

"Full standard complement. Starboard guns lost with the wing."

"Spread out and pair up for perimeter guard. Stay close."

"Yes sir." She gave orders to the other three troopers. Each of them went to reinforce the existing four, putting two on each axis. It meant the two who had been guarding him specifically were now assigned to a direction rather than him. Hux walked around the ship to where Poe was examining the intact wing. There was what he assumed to be vegetative material jammed into the joint.

Poe said over his shoulder, "I think the frame is good, but we can't articulate the wing with all this junk in here."

"It's durasteel," Hux said dismissively. "The frame should be tougher than these trees. It took a direct hit to weaken the other enough that it could be torn free and it still remained intact until we crashed."

"Uh, yeah." He tossed a few small, fleshy chunks to the side, but he wasn't making much progress without proper tools. "Rey was just over here. She said that little ground quake was from when she cut it, like it reacted to getting hurt. I heard a noise, too."

Hux looked around. He saw the lower part of her legs next to the shaggy pillars of the Wookiee and the black-clad legs of Ren, all on the other side of the ship. He couldn't hear them, so assumed they couldn't hear him, either. "That's the same conclusion I drew. Did she think it was intelligent?"

"I asked the same thing. She couldn't tell." Poe went back to digging at the compacted woody material. "This stuff's really jammed in here."

"Why can't she tell? Wouldn't the Force reveal that sort of thing?"

Poe shrugged unhelpfully.

Hux huffed. Force users were such selfish, self-centered pain in the asses, though it was comforting to hear the ones in the Resistance were no better. "Ren said getting me from the _Finalizer _was part of the plan. You arrived there … to abduct me?"

Poe stopped trying to pry on the blockage, but he still faced away. He was quiet for a moment. Hux waited patiently. Poe said, "Our plan was to get as much information on Sidious as we could. Kylo had holocrons and stuff in his quarters. He said he was certain he'd be able to find them. The others were going to go to the main computers and download everything they could on the fleet. So we knew what we were dealing with."

"And me? Why would I be important in this?" Armitage thought a lot of himself, sure, but he knew he was just another general. Even if he was nominally in charge after Kylo's exit, the First Order was likely already in the process of replacing him. Or just erasing him. And there was the no-small-matter of the capability of this 'Sidious' person, whom Hux had severely underestimated and dismissed as a charlatan or perhaps a psy-ops attack. If he was truly who he'd claimed to be, then would there be any First Order to return to?

Poe turned to look at him, then shot a pointed glance at the two stormtroopers stationed not far away. They were watching the forest, but were easily close enough to hear the conversation. That was their job – keep watch, but be able to turn their guns on the Resistance as needed. Hux looked at them, too, then arched a brow at Poe.

Poe took a few steps to him, raised one hand to his shoulder, and started to come closer. Hux took a quick step back. "What are you doing?" He kept his voice low.

As did Poe. "I was going to put my arms around you and whisper really bad things in your ear. Which sounds sexy, but considering what I have to say, isn't. It's still a hug. I could whisper it from here, if you don't think the audio ports in those helmets will pick it up."

Hux looked up and down him (Poe looked as he had before – basically clean, armed, and disorderly), then over at the stormtroopers (who were watching the forest like they were supposed to), upward (those in the cockpit had no line of sight on him), and around (no one else was where they could see them, either). "A hug?" he said skeptically.

Poe smiled softly. "I do good hugs. Trust me." Hux did not trust him, but when Poe took another step forward, he didn't back away. He wanted to hear what Poe had to say and he allowed that it may well not be something he wanted the troopers to know. Poe slid a hand under his arm and the other around his waist. He pulled them together and rested his head on Hux's shoulder. Hux carefully closed his arms around the man in turn. He turned his head where he could watch the stormtroopers and breathed out slowly.

It felt good. It felt very good – the press of a body against his in a firm, steady line. Arms held him securely but not in a manner that made him feel he was being grappled or restrained. He could feel Poe's breathing through his chest and arms. It felt oddly right – a thrill of human contact he'd never experienced. He wasn't being sagged into or pulled off balance. They were just standing very, very close. Poe's upper hand began moving back and forth slowly on his back. It was soothing. Mesmerizing.

He'd lost the _Finalizer _today. It came to him unbidden with a shiver, making his fingers twitch on Poe's back. He'd lost his ship and unknown numbers of crew whom he'd been responsible for. On top of that, he wasn't there to stop the progress of the reborn emperor or whatever he was. Pryde had believed him well enough to mutiny. He should have died before being disloyal, but the loyalties of the old imperials were more inconstant than those raised in the Order. Would others believe him in Hux's absence or would he return to find the Order headed by another horror like Snoke?

He probably wouldn't even be allowed back. That meant there was nothing and nowhere for him, because unlike Ren, he had no mother leading up a private military operation he could run to. He was stranded on an unknown planet with nothing to his name but the clothes on his back, the wits in his head, and the residual loyalty of less than a dozen stormtroopers who had yet to realize he had no institution behind him to enforce their obedience. And, apparently, he had the obnoxious attention of a flirty Resistance pilot. Who did do good hugs.

Which had gone on longer than necessary. Hux dropped his chin so his words were spoken into Poe's ear. "You had something to tell me?"

"Ah, I love the sound of your voice like that," Poe purred seductively. "But you're not going to like what I have to say."

"Tell me anyway. I'm putting up with this. It might as well be for a reason." But his hands roamed a little over Poe's back – thin cloth over smooth skin and firm muscle. It made him want to take his gloves off for a better feel – wrong as that was.

"Okay, here goes." Poe straightened and stretched up on his toes to get his lips to Hux's ear. "Brendol Hux was a Force-neutered clone of Emperor Palpatine, otherwise known as Darth Sidious, created about the same time as the clone army of the Republic. You were unexpected, but you're still technically his son."

"Palpatine's son, you mean."

"Yes. Or nephew, depending on interpretation. Brendol was the only clone he made; that makes you the only flesh and blood tie Sidious has left in the galaxy. You're important to him." Poe went back to being flat-footed.

"Obviously not very. He's tried to destroy the ship I was on twice now."

"I think it's more a 'join me or die' situation, but I have to confess I'm not completely sure."

Hux pulled back, holding Poe at arm's length as his overtaxed brain tried to process all the implications of that. One of the stormtroopers glanced over, then kept watching them. They were close enough to count as the sort of odd situation the troopers were supposed to monitor. Come to think of it, they'd had to have heard them discussing the hug. "What do you think I'm going to do? I'm no Luke Skywalker. I've heard the stories and I know the truth."

Poe shrugged. "No. But you're the Starkiller. It's something. The others don't know. Just me, Kylo, and Rey do. Or I assume Rey does. Not sure about that, either. In any case, you have a right to know and they agreed with that, we've just … kind of been in a rush until this moment."

Hux let go. "I'm sure I'm supposed to have some reaction to this, but I've always known my father was a monster. This doesn't change anything." If anything, it made it worse. It made everything in his life worse. He tried not to think about it, but it felt like his head was buzzing on overdrive.

Poe's face sobered, then crumpled a little around the edges. "I … I guess I hadn't thought of that. That Brendol would be the same personality, just without the Force."

"Ruling over an empire of one. As I said, there is no familial love here. I do not believe I am capable of forgiving him, no matter what incarnation he is in. You think I could re-enact Skywalker confronting …" He shook his head. There was only so much he could say with the troopers listening. Poe had been right – this wasn't something he wanted publicized until he had thought it through on his own.

"That's okay," Poe said. "We're still figuring this thing out." He took a step back and waved at the wreck they had as a ship. "And who knows? None of it matters if we can't get this thing back into space."


	31. Rey 7

[Rey]

* * *

"When I cut the trunk," Rey explained, "the ground shook and I heard a groan from underground. Like we're on some kind of enormous creature and I … cut it."

Chewbacca grunted. Kylo squatted next to the stump, examining it. "This doesn't look like wood." The center of it was a white porous material that was drying out fast in the air, but it had been tough and resilient from the beginning.

"I know," she said. "I think. But I don't know anything about trees. Except that they're pretty. And they're plants. And they require more water than …" She trailed off.

"Than is available on Jakku," Kylo finished. He touched the sap. It was sticky and had a gummy consistency. When she'd cut it, it had flowed easily. Now it had congealed. Chewbacca moved next to him and rumble-growled something more complicated.

"A fungus? So it's not a tree?" she asked. Yip-yep bark from the Wookiee. Rey said, "Okay then. Not even a plant." She looked around at the things, which grew as far as could be seen in every direction. "They all look the same. How did it move, though?"

"_Why_ did it move?" Kylo asked. "Was it a warning? Or an attempted attack? Did any of the other trees move?"

She shook her head. "Nothing moved except the ground and this one." She pointed to the heavily-scarred trunk that had removed itself from under the ship. "As soon as the ship's weight shifted off, this one sort of slithered out from under it and straightened, much faster than those other ones after we crashed. General Hux saw it. And the two troopers with him."

Kylo put his hand on the one she'd indicated. "Without the Force, I can't tell. Let's not damage anymore of them until we know what we're dealing with."

C'ai came up to them, effectively ending the conversation as far as Rey was concerned. He asked in the deep, careful voice he used for Basic, "If we recovered the wing, could we use your lightsabers as welding tools to reattach it? They can melt durasteel, correct?"

"They can melt it," Rey said, "but they're not very good at being used as a tool." She doubted the ship's repair kit contained what she'd need to modify a lightsaber to a welding torch. But maybe?

He said, "Even if we could not attach the wing to allow flight, we could prop it close and run wiring to it, perhaps re-establishing the communications system or the scanners."

Chewbacca whuffed a noise of agreement. Rey nodded, seeing the sense of this. "Yes, yes, that would work." She turned to Kylo. "How far back did we lose the wing?" The other two turned for his answer as well.

"As soon as we hit." He looked off in the direction they'd crashed. "It was a long way. It's a big wing. The, this 'forest' isn't dense, but how will we get it back with all these trees in the way?"

"You could cut them down," C'ai said, gesturing at the one Rey had cut earlier.

"Ah, no," she said. "We don't think that's a good idea."

The Abednedo conveniently moved on without questioning why. "Well, is there a repulsor skid in the shuttle?" C'ai asked.

Kylo answered. "There should be a small one for moving cargo or a … an injured person. But it won't be able to carry the wing. It could carry supplies for those trying to move it."

"Does the shuttle have cabling to winch it here?"

"That far? No," he said. "It has a winch in the nose for manual tethering in low gravity environments."

C'ai asked, "Could we take it out?"

"The winch?" he asked.

"Yes," C'ai said. "If we could anchor it somehow, we could use it to help pull. Attach it, play out the cable, anchor the winch, reel in the wing. Repeat." Chewbacca whuffed again and gestured at the trunk under the ship, adding another growled comment.

"Yes," Rey agreed with him. "We could use that as a cross-member between two other trees and attach the winch to it, bracing it against the trees as we pull."

Kylo pursed his lips. "We'd still have to keep the wing from catching on the trees. We'd have to tilt it upright."

"Can the Force help us?" C'ai asked.

Rey shook her head. "Not for this. At least, not right now."

The Abednedo nodded agreeably, again, not questioning it. "It will be getting dark soon. Maybe the others will have ideas."

"Oh," Rey said quickly, adopting her forced persona of cheerful support. "this _is_ a good idea. Thank you for coming forward with it. We'll just have to figure out how to do it." C'ai nodded and walked away to look at the nose area of the ship, probably looking for the winch Kylo had mentioned. Her face relaxed and posture slumped as he left. It was tiring to keep that up for too long.

"Ah," Kylo said softly. "The mask drops."

She blinked at him. "What?"

"Your mask. How many of them do you have fooled with that?"

She snorted inelegantly and rolled her eyes. He said nothing. Neither did Chewie. She finally sighed. "There was no one else with me in the desert. Not usually. When I went into Niima Outpost, they all knew me. I didn't need it there. Not usually."

"But now," Kylo said, "'not usually' has nearly turned into 'always'."

She looked around, lips pressing together. He was right, but she didn't want to admit that. "Tell me about this repulsor skid he mentioned."

"Of course," Kylo said with less of a smirk than she expected. "It should be in the cargo hold – under the shuttle deck. We could use it to move the trunk and winch into position. Chewbacca, can you help me move this out where we can get a look at it?" The planet's sun was setting, with shadows creeping over the land. The two moved under the ship and rolled the trunk out somewhat. It was mostly straight now.

"Should I cut off the end?" Rey asked, moving down to where blue-green fronds emerged from the tip.

"Yes, go ahead. They'll just be in the way and we don't need the extra length." She sheared it off with the lightsaber. This time, nothing quaked in the world around them. Kylo asked Chewbacca, "You know the most about … trees and construction. Do you think this will be strong enough? It's not wood."

Chewbacca gave his professional opinion that it might be and was their best option at the moment, so they decided to go with that.


	32. Threnalli 1

[Threnalli]

* * *

C'ai examined the flat, snubbed face of the black shuttle, finding the access port for the winch more easily than he'd expected. It was labeled, but like the markings on the chests of the troopers, it was in an embossed or stippled pattern you could only see from a certain angle, or if you had really good eyes, as he did. He suspected the ubiquitous helmets did the same.

He opened the port, examined the mechanisms inside, and tried to see if the bolts to remove it were accessible. He didn't have a good angle for it and the lighting was poor. He was in the shadow of the ship. Even with his eyes, he couldn't tell. He needed to get one of those lights General Hux and Rose had been using earlier.

He was thinking that when he heard a small sound behind him – a soft footfall. He whirled, hand going to his blaster and half-pulling it. One of the stormtroopers had snuck up on him. He'd seen the pair of them set up a handful of paces away, but they'd been looking out into the forest and presumably doing their job of standing guard. Now one had come up on him. "What do you want?" C'ai said, doing his best to sound threatening.

The body language of the trooper wasn't threatening in turn and it didn't become so even in the face of his bluster. They were leaned forward, head slightly tilted, and most importantly for C'ai, their blaster rifle, normally a two-handed weapon, was held loosely out to the side by one hand. In the background, the other trooper hissed, "Teller!"

The one closer ignored their fellow. Instead, they asked hesitantly, "What … what are you?"

C'ai slid his blaster back into the holster. So that was the issue. He thought about various answers he could give: a Resistance soldier, a TIE's pilot's worst nightmare, a hero; but there was something about her stance (and the voice sounded female so he would use 'her') that made him think the question was sincere, even if thoroughly rude. "I am an Abednedo," he explained.

She straightened slightly. "What planet are your people from? Or what system? Are you from there?"

"My people are from the planet Abednedo, in the Colonies system. I was not born on the home world itself, but I am from that system." He enunciated carefully in Basic, expecting that the First Order troopers wouldn't understand his native language. Of those on this mission, only Poe, Chewbacca, and Kaydel did as far as he knew (he wasn't sure about Kylo or Rey). He was certain Finn didn't and he was from the First Order, so.

She gave a nod. He knew it was polite to return the question, but it felt weird to do it of a stormtrooper. Then again, it occurred to him, it was weird only because it felt more comfortable to rely on his assumptions than on reality. "What are you?"

"A stormtrooper."

Well. He'd assumed correctly. But maybe there was more to be found in that answer than the obvious. "That is your primary identity? Interesting."

"No, I'm- Well, it is, but I'm human. Was that what you were asking?"

"Yes. Where are you from?"

"The _Finalizer._ It's a ship."

C'ai's mouth tendrils twisted in what was a smile for his species. Due to her helmet, it was impossible to be certain, but he was pretty sure she wasn't being sarcastic in telling him the _Finalizer _was a ship. "Yes, I think it is. Is that your home?"

"Yes." She straightened even more, somewhat to attention. Was that pride? Or some acknowledgement that he was playing along with the humor correctly?

"I heard your names," he said. "Many begin with FN. Does that stand for _Finalizer_?"

She tilted her head briefly the other way and then back to upright. "No. That's just, uh, there's a word for it … serendipity? The letters are assigned first, then we pick things they stand for. F is for foot soldier, but not all of us in the legion are foot soldiers."

"You're not supposed to talk to them!" the other stormtrooper said heatedly.

"Stow it, Major," she said over her shoulder. "I'm gathering intelligence."

"Major?" C'ai looked over at the other trooper. There was nothing about him that indicated he was an officer. Finn hadn't mentioned it earlier. The highest rank he'd mentioned was first sergeant and she had an orange and black pauldron. This one had no pauldron at all, but the trooper he was talking to (Teller?) had a white one with black barring.

"That's not his rank," she said.

"What is his rank?"

"Specialist."

"And yours?"

"Sergeant."

"Ah. Why do you call him Major?"

"Because he's a major pain in the ass." She said this totally straight.

"I am reporting you to the first sergeant!" the other stormtrooper said.

"That," responded the one in front of C'ai. "That right there." C'ai blinked at her, his mouth tendrils curling again. She _had_ been being sarcastic earlier, about the ship. These troopers … they had a sense of humor (or not, maybe, in the case of 'Major'). "I have to get back to my post," she said, and returned to stand next to the other trooper. She toggled a button on her jawline. He did the same. From what C'ai could see, they then engaged in private conversation.

C'ai turned back to the winch, his tendrils still tight with amusement as he smiled to himself. It had gotten darker still while they were talking and now he could see nothing inside the hatch. He shut it and headed back to the rest, intrigued and buoyed by the exchange.


	33. Teller 2

[Teller]

* * *

"You can't talk to them," Major insisted on the private channel.

"Yes, I can. I obviously did," Teller responded.

"You'll get in trouble!"

"I'm only going to get in trouble if someone reports me."

"_I'm_ going to report you."

"So you said," she said with a long-suffering sigh.

"I _have_ to report you, sir," he tried to explain, as stupidly earnest as he always was. "Those are the rules."

"I know." She could be angry at him. She wanted to be. But after serving with him for more than a year, she was mostly resigned. She really didn't want another demerit for idle curiosity. "But listen – knowing what that is might be valuable information. Now I can look him up in the ship database. Abednedos might have weaknesses or even special powers!"

"We already saw it had a special power. It lifted General Hux like he weighed nothing."

"I don't think General Hux weighs very much anyway," she said, unimpressed. "CL-0745 could probably lift him like that." That was an exaggeration, but not by much. Maybe Ten-ten could do it. He was the other muscle-head in their section.

"But what if it had done it to you?"

"I think he's male." She wasn't sure. But seemed like it, assuming Abednedo secondary sex characteristics lined up with those of most humanoid species.

"He could have bashed you against the hull before I could blast him."

"He's not going to bash me against the hull," she dismissed. He wouldn't do that unless she was rude. Which she hadn't been. So she was safe. "They're just people."

"They might. You can't understand them. They're not us. They're not allies. They're just … nearby. And they stole our uniforms."

"I think those are fake uniforms. They put an extra code cylinder loop on them." And the fabric didn't look right, but she couldn't be sure without touching it.

"They did? How?"

"Uh, with whatever uniform-making equipment they used."

"How would they do that? They can't make our uniforms!"

"Beings in the rest of the galaxy have technology, Major. They get their stuff somewhere."

"Okay, whatever. But I think they infiltrated the _Finalizer_. They must be in league with the _Allegiance_. What were they even doing there?"

"Then all the more reason for me to talk to them and find out what they know." Not that she believed the former supreme leader was in league with General Pryde. The reasons for the assault were unknown to her – just that it had happened and they were to patrol the corridors in preparation to repel possible boarding parties. Were these Resistance members part of such a boarding party? If so, then why was General Hux tolerating them? Asking such questions was not allowed. At least – not of her superiors.

Major said, "You can't trust anything they say. That's why – the rules, the regulations – you're not supposed to talk to unauthorized beings."

"The reporting of minor infractions should be reserved for standard operations and not be carried out in an active combat zone, unless such infraction constitutes an urgent threat to mission, life, or material," she paraphrased from memory, giving it the official tone that Major was always impressed by. In her normal voice, she added, "None of which are in danger from me asking his species. So just … stow it until we're back shipboard." If they ever were back shipboard. With any luck, he would have forgotten it by then.

Major was silent for a while, finally saying, grudgingly, "Fine."


	34. Kaydel 2

[Kaydel]

* * *

Kaydel left the forward compartment to give Finn and Rose some time alone. All three of them together had settled the issue that the long range comm system was not functioning and couldn't be coaxed into it – not for transmission, not for reception. Finn and Rose had shared a lingering look, so she'd excused herself.

She found herself alone in the main compartment with four stormtroopers, one of them being the one in charge – first sergeant, CL-something. She could have hurried on down the ramp and outside, but no. She wasn't going to be forced out of here just because she was alone in the same room with the four of them.

For their part, the stormtroopers ignored her. The first sergeant was in the process of handing a single meal bar and cup of water to another trooper, telling them, "Take this to the general." Just the one. To one of the remaining troopers, she said, "Get cups out and fill them." To the other, "Find something to carry the meal bars in." The orders were curt and direct. At least they weren't up to anything nefarious.

Kaydel moved over to where the first trooper was pulling cups out of the built-in wall cabinet next to the rear compartment. "Can I help?"

There was a chilly silence, but cooperation had to start somewhere. The trooper she was talking to looked at the first sergeant, who eventually said, "Fill cups."

Kaydel nodded and carried a pair of them into the refresher for water.

When she came out, the first sergeant and the other trooper were debating what to use to carry the meal bars. Unsurprisingly, First Order shuttles didn't come stocked with baskets. The trooper who had been sent out earlier returned. They were still carrying both meal bar and cup. "General Hux declined." A male voice, Kaydel noted.

"We don't eat?" the first sergeant asked sharply.

"He … said you were to lead mess for everyone."

The first sergeant sighed visibly and lifted off her helmet. Seeing her face didn't do anything to dispel the image of a stock villain from every holo-program Kaydel had seen growing up on Dulathia. The stormtrooper was a bull-necked, round-faced young woman with dark olive skin and short-cropped dark hair. She had a scar on the back of her scalp that made a craggy Y shape, visible through the short hair.

She took the meal bar Hux had sent back, tore it open, and took a strangely small bite of it. The three troopers nodded, then all as one reached up and took their helmets off. There was some kind of ritual to the whole thing, but Kaydel was distracted just by getting to see them helmetless.

All three troopers had short hair. The two men had no facial hair. The men looked pure human – one with skin a dark tan, the other lighter like Kaydel's own. The woman did not look pure – she had fringed, mobile ears and melanistic spots on her face. She was young like the first sergeant and Finn. That age was how Kaydel had imagined most stormtroopers, but one of the men was in his mid-30s and the other had to be in his 40s, maybe even early 50s. That was strange. That the older man was missing his smallest finger on his left hand was somehow stranger than there being a non-pure human under one of these helmets.

The two men and the first sergeant stared at the woman with fringed ears and the splotches. Her ears swept back, flattening against her skull. It was a motion that would normally be fear or anger for most species. She said nothing. They said nothing. Kaydel said nothing. But she could have sworn they were acting like they'd never seen this person before in their lives. The moment was absurdly tense.

The first sergeant finally said, "He said everyone?"

She was addressing the woman with the ears, who swallowed and squeaked, "Yes sir."

The first sergeant jerked her head toward the two men. "Then use a helmet to hold the meal bars. Those on watch are to stay at their post and eat on rotation."

"Does, um," the woman asked, her ears slipping forward somewhat, "does that mean the Resistance, too? Sir?"

"Yes. That's what 'everyone' means."

"Yes sir." The woman with the ears turned to help Kaydel with the cups. The two men began loading the stacked meal bars into an upturned helmet.

Kaydel picked up a third set of cups to fill, but the first sergeant told her, "Get the full ones. Carry them out to your aliens and anyone who won't take it from our hands. FO-1282 will fill the rest."

There was so much to unpack in that, but maybe this wasn't the time. "Yes sir," she grumbled sarcastically.

"You do not call me 'sir'," the first sergeant snapped at her. Or it sounded that way. Almost everything the woman said came out like a rebuke.

"What- Okay. Yes, then." She picked up the water and made her way down the ramp before they could have another stupid confrontation about what they were calling each other. She passed Poe heading up the ramp as she went down.

Her dissatisfaction must have shown on her face, because he asked, "Everything good?"

She paused to sigh, looking at the cups and lifting them both briefly. It wasn't lost on her that the food, water, and access to the shuttle were technically First Order resources which were being freely shared. "I think so," she admitted. "They're … kind of abrasive."

Poe smiled. "I've noticed." The two stormtroopers with meal bars started down the ramp, so Poe gave her a light pat on the shoulder and continued inside.


	35. Finn 2

[Finn]

* * *

"It's going to be alright," Finn tried again to reassure Rose after the door shut behind Kaydel.

Rose had a worried, determined set to her features. She had that a lot in the short time he'd known her. She stared out at the forest floor, but he doubted she was thinking about the scene out there. She was probably thinking about the damage to the ship and how best to fix it, if it could be done at all. She turned to him. "Can that door be locked?"

Finn was sitting in the pilot's chair because he knew best how to access information from the First Order systems, even if he didn't know much about flying. Rose might be better than him in taking them apart and putting them back together (and it wasn't a 'might' – she definitely was), but when it came to knowing which menu commands to use, the First Order's user interface had had thirty years to diverge from the rest of the galaxy. So even if the flight controls hadn't changed, the software had. Finn could coax information out faster than she (or Kaydel) could. He could also find the door switch. He flipped it.

"Locked." He pivoted his seat to face her. Previously, Kaydel had been sitting at the co-pilot's station with Rose standing between them, but now Kaydel was gone. Rose glanced over his chair with the same focused determination, then climbed in it to straddle him.

"Oh!" he said, raising his brows in surprise. He'd thought it was secret time or something. Maybe it was … just another kind. Or just private instead of secret. (He was still putting together how things worked in the Resistance on this front.) He put his hands on her hips, staring into her eyes. She still had that look on her face, but she obviously wasn't thinking of fixing the ship. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him with a desperate energy that had him responding, embracing her tightly and kissing her back.

"We were almost blown apart," she said when their lips parted. "We _were_ torn apart. Do you know how close we must have come to dying?"

The First Order didn't glorify death (much); if they had, it would have implied there was a value to a life so sacrificed. Live or die, the success of the Order was the only thing that mattered. "I- uh- don't-" He shrugged. He hadn't really thought about it. They'd left the hangar, he'd been thrown against the closed door, and that was it for him. Next thing he'd known, Hux was kicking him awake. The jerk.

She kissed him again, pressing her body to his. Her hips hitched forward and he put a hand between them, trying to judge how much pressure (and where) was appropriate. They'd done this one other time, the sole night they'd been able to find together. He'd been thrilled that she wanted to spend time with him, that he meant that much to her! And then realized what she really wanted to do involved sex. Which had not worked. At least not initially, not the way she'd obviously expected.

He wasn't exactly sure what she_ had_ expected. He'd never had an erection in his life, as far as he recalled, though of course he was aware of the function. The basic health and hygiene class given to stormtroopers didn't even mention it, because why would they? No emissions, no ovulations – that was not what stormtroopers did.

So she'd showed him how to use his hands, his fingers sliding inside the heat of her body as she moaned and bucked against him. He'd been torn between finding it repulsive and compelling, a sort of strange fascination settling over him. But the main thing was that he knew how much of an honor this was, that she wanted him to do it, to her and with her. He went with that.

Like he rubbed her now, though she was fully clothed and they were pressed together as she kissed him fiercely. The angle was awkward but if she minded, she didn't show it. She moaned instead, as she had before, so he supposed he was doing it right. He liked the taste of her mouth. He liked the bliss she found in his touch. He liked the sound of his name lost in her gasps. He especially liked how she was wearing an officer's uniform, but he didn't think that was something he _should_ like.

He cupped her groin, fingers curled and the base of his palm rubbing against the crotch of her pants. Her tongue was in his mouth. Her breath huffed against his cheek. Finn felt something pass over him, through him, yet stayed to dwell in his chest and his gut. It was a warmth and a desire in turn, but he didn't know what to do with it. He felt himself shiver under the strain of it, strange and unfamiliar. Her hips hitched less regularly and she stopped kissing him as the tone of her voice changed. She was nearly there.

Something … there was something … like he wanted this not to be over. He wanted … He couldn't say what he wanted. But it was like he wanted to do something, to be an even more involved part of this, but he couldn't quite pull it together. He was on the cusp of it, though. He kissed across her cheek and down her neck, pressing and rubbing to make up for her falter. Her breaths became gasps, then none at all for a moment as she trembled, then jerked a few times under his hand.

"Stop, stop," she breathed.

He did, and hugged her, fairly sure all she wanted him to stop was to stop getting her off. She hugged him back, sagging into him and proving him right. "We're going to be alright," he whispered. He still had that lingering feeling, like he wanted to do this right back to her – to have sex, to thrust, to enter her. He was not erect. It was not an option. He sighed, letting the tension drain from him.

"I hope so," she answered.

"We will be," he promised. "Some things take time."


	36. Hux 10

[Hux]

* * *

Hux was sitting on the log that had previously been under the ship. The top end had been cut off by Rey's lightsaber for some reason that had not been shared with him, and then the bulk of it had been hauled out and left to the side of the ship. It worked as a passable seat, though now that night had fallen, this end of it was outside the direct light from the open ramp. Since he was on it, everyone else steered clear. That was fine. He was staring at the ground vacantly.

In the previous four or five hours:

He'd been informed that six of his ships sent to monitor the remains of the Hosnian system had mutinied in favor of someone claiming to be the deceased Emperor Palpatine.

He'd had to puzzle out this Palpatine's bizarre communication to him, which seemed to be an attempt to lure him into an ambush in the Hosnian sector. Hux had assumed it was a Resistance ploy and refused it, possibly with a little too much monologuing about how whoever it was could stick their proposal up his chute. Not that he'd used language that crass, but he was sure the message had gotten through.

Because he'd been attached directly after.

He'd lost that battle.

He'd lost his ship and nearly all the crew. Had any of them survived aside from those with him? He didn't know.

As a result, he'd lost his personal command.

Had he also lost the entire First Order? Was he supposed to have seen the attack from this Darth Sidious coming somehow? Was Palpatine _real_? The Resistance certainly seemed to think so, taking it on faith. He was still trying to wrap his mind around whatever Sith sorcery this represented, and the implications it had for, say, Snoke's death.

He'd nearly died.

He owed Kylo Ren a life debt (again?). Or Poe. It was hard to tell, but in either case, they were his enemy. (Or were they? Poe had declared them friends. Surely that was specious.)

He'd been duped into accompanying the Resistance and furthering their plans, and he couldn't even blame them for actively deceiving him. Evacuating had been the smartest thing to do.

He'd been involved in a crash while unsecured and had suffered enough of a head injury to be knocked unconscious for at least several minutes. His thinking was still disordered. His head hurt constantly.

He was stranded on an unknown, apparently uninhabited world, cut off from the galaxy as a whole.

He'd thought it possible they'd asphyxiate on the ship.

He'd been assaulted by an alien, with the fight broken up by a traitor.

He was in the presence of three different people he'd tried to have executed (unsuccessfully in each case, which didn't do good things for his ego, although he'd never seriously expected or intended to kill Ren – see above possible life debt from years earlier; he hadn't even punished anyone for Ren's escape), and two powerful users of the Force. Both of whom had many reasons to bear him personal animosity. One of which had laughed at him earlier (or nearly had) and it was the only thing he was currently, inexplicably, angry about. Probably because it was the only one of his problems that was immediately to hand. Being this angry at a Force user was suicidal, but she had yet to act like she noticed.

He had two squads of troopers looking up to him, expecting him to continue being the general. These stormtroopers constituted his only protection against the Resistance, the Force users, the aliens, and were the only manifestation of his authority.

And … he was supposedly the son or nephew of Emperor Palpatine, aka Darth Sidious, a fact the Resistance fully intended to exploit, regardless of his opinions on the matter.

He was sure he _should_ have an opinion about this, but at the moment he felt like a husk. He wished he could dry up and blow away like the bit of paper his father had accused him of being. His father, who had been a clone of Palpatine. Hux couldn't argue that on appearances. Everything he'd ever seen of Palpatine was heavily doctored by the propaganda department, so a lack of physical resemblance was meaningless. They were both humans with pale skin and red hair, but since when had that been a sure sign of relation?

Certainly, their conduct was similar - their personalities, now that he knew what he was looking for. His father had been an abusive waste-bag. Being a clone of Darth Sidious entirely explained the implacable, no-negotiation, no-mercy nature of Sidious' surprise attack on the _Finalizer_. One did not 'smart off' to Brendol (or Palpatine, apparently) and get away with it. It told him so much about Sidious' intentions. If only he'd known this earlier, his strategy would have been wildly different. Everything might have been different. But he hadn't known.

A familiar pair of non-regulation boots intercepted his line of sight. Hux looked up at the intrusion to see Poe offering him a cup of something. He wanted to turn it away as brusquely as he had the water and meal bar the stormtrooper had brought him earlier.

Something of the intent must have shown on his face, because Poe said, "I made it for you."

He took it to be polite, even though he was under no obligation to be polite to these people. It didn't appear to be water. He sniffed at it.

"I'm not familiar with the First Order eats," Poe said, settling in next to him with his own cup – uninvited, but Hux found he wasn't unwelcome. "All the label said was 'Orchard Mix'. Tastes like fruit punch to me." Poe took a sip. It reddened his lips.

Hux looked at Poe's lips for a long beat. There was no First Order here aside from himself and the troopers who (so far) answered to him. No High Command watching him for any deviation from the norm. Just him and whatever he wanted. They were nice lips. He nodded and absently took a swallow. The tangy, sweet taste jolted him enough for him to explain, "It's a standard drink included in survival rations for the high calorie content. The strong flavor masks some nutrients typically not included in meal bars."

"Oh? So it's actually good for you?"

Hux chuckled ruefully. "Under some circumstances. We have forty-eight cycles of food and twenty-one people. Enjoy it while you can."

"Forty-eight cycles is a long time. If we can't get the ship fixed in that much time, then it can't be fixed."

"Forty-eight _person_-cycles. It's designed to give the ship, at full complement, four days of supplies. We'll be through it in _two_." Another thing to add to the list, he supposed – the looming prospect of starving to death.

"Oh." Poe's eyes widened. He looked down at the cup, then at Hux. "Should we … like, ration our food?"

"I don't know. My survival instruction has been that the best place to store one's food and water is in one's body, especially in the beginning of a survival situation, where a sharp mind and capable body pays the biggest dividends. But that included many variables, some of which are present here, such as competitors and the possibility of instigating an internecine hoarding situation."

"'Intern-a-scene … You're saying if we try to ration, there's going to be an argument between the Order and the Resistance?"

"More likely between those are friends with the Force users and those who are not." Which meant he needed to stay fortified, he supposed. He took another drink, wishing some rules-bending crew member had stashed liquor on the ship. It wasn't unknown to happen, but if it had, then the stormtrooper who found it during the physical inventory had bent rules further by failing to disclose it.

"Oh."

Morbidly, Hux said, "I suppose I need to kill everyone who isn't immediately useful, but how to know which ones they are? The obvious surplus are my own troopers." He turned the cup in his hand and shook his head slowly. He'd lost so much already. So many. Lives squandered because he hadn't taken seriously a villain reportedly killed some thirty years ago.

"No one else needs to die."

"Tell that to my enemies." His voice came out sounding frail to his ears. He coughed and cleared his throat.

"Hey." Poe was not fooled by the subterfuge. The pilot put a hand on Hux's knee and rubbed it slowly. His hand was warm through the fabric. Poe had taken off the work gloves he'd worn earlier. They were sticking out of his breast pocket at the moment, looking like some kind of lowbrow decoration. "Those survival packs or the med-kit should have an amino acid analyzer that can tell us what we can eat around here. And I'll bet Kylo and Rey can use the Force somehow to … I don't know, lure animals in that we can eat. Something like that. Don't give up hope."

Hux let out a shaky sigh, easing slightly. "You're right. You're right." He lifted his cup in mock toast. "I don't know about hope, but 'don't give up' is a sentiment I can rally around."

Poe nodded. He reached into a different pocket and produced a meal bar. "I saw you turn down your dinner earlier." He put it closer. Hux took it slowly. "Don't give up," Poe said.

Poe jogged Hux's knee for no reason, or because it amused him. Hux nudged him back just the same, watching to see what the gesture meant. "Yeah," Poe said, nodding to him like they'd made an agreement.


	37. Lady 1

[Lady]

* * *

First sergeant CL-0745 stood at the bottom of the ramp with FL-2216, the staff sergeant she was supposed to be mentoring. They had their helmets on to take advantage of the improved night vision. And because you were always supposed to wear your helmet while on duty. They also had a private comm channel opened between them so they could hold a conversation right in front of the Resistance without giving anything away, as long as they kept their voices down.

"What do you think about the situation?" CL-0745 asked.

"I'm supposed to think now?" It was a serious question, not sarcasm.

"When I take my promotion, the squad will be left in your hands. As a trooper, you are to do exactly as you're told. As a commander, you have to _think_, understand, and interpret. _Your_ commander won't tell you everything. For example, General Hux has not told me our mission here or my current orders. It's my job to understand that our unit's priority is protecting him and what other First Order assets we have here. He shouldn't have to tell me, and he did _not_ have to tell me. So _think_, and tell me about our situation."

There was a long pause before FL-2216 offered, "If they tracked us through hyperspace, then hanging around the shuttle like this is the last thing we should be doing."

"If they'd tracked us through hyperspace, we'd already be dead," CL-0745 pointed out.

"Maybe they stuck around to do mop-up instead of coming after us right away."

CL-0745 said, "I think hyperspace tracking has to be used right away or it doesn't work. I don't know for sure, though. But maybe whatever threw us off-course made us impossible to track. Or to their sensors, maybe we vaporized. If the explosion happened simo with the jump …?"

"Being near the shuttle is still dangerous. It's a target."

"It's also our only fortified position," CL-0745 said. "Should we-"

The general's voice raised in a complaint about propriety. FL-2216 leaned out and looked to the side. CL-0745 just turned her head enough to see. The pilot had shifted from sitting next to the general to lying on the ground with his head and shoulders against the fuzzy log they'd been sitting on. He was trying to lure the general to the ground with him, promising they were in the dark and no one could see them anyway. Obviously, the pilot underestimated trooper helmets for both night vision and audio reception. But the general didn't look genuinely upset.

"Stop looking," CL-0745 said. FL-2216 turned so her helmet was facing the Resistance members, who were clustered around a camp light that had come in the survival packs. Earlier, the group been discussing their combined lack of wilderness skills for this biome. Now they were talking about fuel cells and how long the life support would last in a blithe assumption they would be allowed to stay on the shuttle. Rose was telling them it might last for years and even then it wouldn't run out of fuel (assuming they didn't run the thrusters), but eventually something would break down.

"What are they doing?" FL-2216 asked. She didn't have to specify. They both had the general and pilot in their peripheral vision, which was as good as looking right at them given the nature of the heads-up display inside their helmets.

"It appears the general is joining him after all," CL-0745 said.

"Not allies," FL-2216 said, repeating the general's earlier comment, "but don't shoot them." The pilot had his arm extended upward, pointing at the stars and murmuring something so softly even the helmet pickup didn't register it. She assumed they were in discussion of their current location and perhaps navigation back to known space. But their relative positions … lying together, shoulder to shoulder … FL-2216 asked, "Is that fraternization?"

"That pilot talked the general into eating earlier after he'd declined."

"That's not an answer," FL-2216 said.

"It should be. _Think_."

The pair was silent for a moment. The general's arm shot up, showing some animation as he identified a nebula in the sky. The two troopers could overhear his side of the conversation easily enough. It seemed he and the pilot had agreed to the direction of the core and the region they were in, but were still undecided on quadrant. There was nothing unprofessional or unbecoming about the conversation aside from their overly familiar posture, and that it was happening at all. The tone of their voices was friendly.

"Eating." FL-2216 said. "He wasn't going to eat. Like DL-1364, after she lost her legion on the _Supremacy_ and not even reconditioning would fix her. We still have to watch her to make sure she eats and does self-care. Is that what you mean?"

"He kept checking the evacuation numbers," CL-0745 said, not answering her question directly.

"He didn't seem to care."

"Then why did he keep checking?" CL-0745 countered.

"I don't know," FL-2216 said, an edge of irritation creeping into her voice.

"I think it's because he cares very much what is best for the Order."

"And what is best for the Order is best for us," FL-2216 answered per the ingrained pattern.

"General Hux has always been the standard of loyalty – on the holos, making the morning announcements, commanding the most critical missions, answering only to the supreme leader himself, who could read minds and see people's weaknesses. If the general says it's right, then it's right." After a few moments of thought, FL-2216 made a small noise of acknowledgement and a single nod of her head.


	38. The Old Man 1

[The Old Man]

* * *

It had become dark. Not completely dead dark, but dark enough that even TN-1017's white armor didn't show up as anything but grey (along with the ID and status indicators overlaid on his image by the heads-up display in H-482's helmet). If there was anything dangerous on this rock, H-482 thought, then they needed to sully up that gleaming white as soon as possible.

They were positioned in a standard staggered watch position, with Ten-ten ahead and low, down on one knee using a tree trunk for cover. His riot shield was set up in front of him as further cover. It also provided a rest point for his blaster rifle. His melee baton was on a strap over his back. H-482 stood a few paces back, in the open where he could be seen and where he in turn had an unimpeded field of view. Anything that came at them would shoot at him first and then be taken down by Ten-ten.

"I hear something," Ten-ten told him.

H-482 listened. Up above, the wind blew enough to rustle the tree fronds together, giving a steady background noise. Above that, he could hear the muted conversation of the Rebel scum. He'd like to complain about how loud they were being, but it wasn't his place and they weren't _that_ loud. He couldn't even make out what they were talking about. First sergeant was much closer to them. If she wanted them to pipe down, that was her call, assuming she was even listening to them. More likely she was chatting with FL-2216 on a private channel and had the pickup for the guards muted.

Closer still to him personally was the general, lying on the ground to his left next to the Rebel pilot. They'd been talking earlier about their position in their galaxy, but they'd been silent for a while now. He glanced over. They were still there, the (activated, functioning) code cylinders the general wore (as opposed to the dummy ones the Rebels had) marked his location along with the fact that, yeah, H-482 could see him lying there staring upward. There was some motion on the horizontal trunk their heads were propped against. Possibly one had his arms spread along it and was moving his hands but that didn't make anatomical sense given their position.

He'd heard, or thought he'd heard, a faint clicking noise just moments earlier. Maybe from out in the darkness, but he hadn't been sure. H-482 turned back and asked Ten-ten, "What do you hear?"

"A rustling." So not the clicking.

"Where?" He scanned the arc they were watching. There was nothing suspicious in it. It might have been dark, but his helmet compensated. Aside from some intricacies of color vision, he could see as well as though it were broad daylight. There was a little ground vegetation – mostly ferns and other epiphytes – but not enough to provide concealment. He cast his line of sight upward, then turned to review the rear profile of the shuttle behind him in case something had dropped down on it. He wondered if he should switch over to infrared when Ten-ten spoke.

"Right in front of- Oh."

Ten-ten didn't sound upset, but H-482 still swung back in a hurry, with a note of alarm in his voice. "What?" There was an adage from way back in the days of the Empire, probably from the clone era: The only old stormtroopers were nervous ones. H-482 was no exception.

FN-9021 broke in. "Something up over there?" He was on relief duty, but standing with FN-9037 and FN-9048 on perimeter duty on the starboard side of the shuttle. All the guards were on the same channel, but they ignored conversations not directed to them. Still, it meant they had heard Ten-ten's words and H-482's near-yelp of a 'what?' Just as they were supposed to.

Ten-ten said, "It's a- a bug. Or an animal. It came out of the ground."

H-482 walked closer, blaster swinging down. The thing in question was a segmented bug-like thing about the size of his hand. It didn't look threatening. He was glad to see _some_ kind of life on this rock. "Stand down," he muttered for the benefit of the rest on the channel. "I'm looking at it." The thing was blue-grey, maybe more grey than blue (the helmets did funny things to color in the dark), and it was waving antennae in the air. It was an arm's length from where TN-1017 squatted. H-482 considered stepping on it, but decided not to. "Just leave it alone. It's not-"

"Stop that!" came the general's voice, clear and commanding.

"What?" the pilot's voice was softer, confused.

"That's not you! Oh! It-" The general scrambled to his feet. H-482 swung that way. The general was waving his arms erratically. The pilot was getting up. H-482 converged on them on one side as First Sergeant CL-0745 and Staff Sergeant FL-2216 came up on the other, from where they'd been standing overwatch from the ramp.

H-482 grabbed the pilot's arm to yank him off-balance and away from the general.

"Hey!" the pilot said, tone offended.

"It was on me!" the general said, hastily running his hands over his hair and neck.

"Over here," FL-2216 said, drawing CL-0745's attention to the tree trunk the general and pilot had been leaning their heads against. "That's it." Her blaster was pointed at something.

"Let go of me," the pilot growled, jerking against the grip. H-482 jammed the muzzle of his blaster against the man's side, hard enough to get his point across. The pilot stilled.

The general had turned to the sergeants. "What is it?"

"Some kind of creature, the size of my hand, ten or twelve legs, maybe pincers."

"Kill it."

"Wait-!" said the woman who had earlier helped the general with repairing the shuttle. The Rebel mob had moved closer, bringing the camp light with them.

CL-0745 stepped on it anyway. It crunched audibly, like that shell was surprisingly thick and durable.

"Was I bitten?" The general was feeling around on his neck. The Rebels came over, shining their light over the scene and causing his helmet visual intake to struggle with the glare. They murmured to each other about the creature, apparently spotting a few more of them if their words were any indication.

FL-2216 moved between the general and the newcomers, blaster sideways across her body at hip level in warning. CL-0745 took a look at the general herself. "I don't see anything, sir."

"I don't feel anything, either," the general admitted. He looked around, turning in a half-circle. He ended facing H-482 and the pilot. "Release him. He had nothing to do with it."

H-482 let go immediately. He doubted the general saw the displeased scowl the pilot shot at him before straightening his jacket and moving away. The feeling was mutual as far as H-482 was concerned.

The general said, "If most of the life on this planet is nocturnal, then we should make our camp inside the shuttle, cramped as it may be."

"Yes sir," CL-0745 said. "I'll see to clearing the furniture and moving it into the cargo holds below deck."

"Commander?" the general said, looking at the pilot in an obvious prompt.

"Yeah?" the pilot said.

"Does the Resistance intend to sleep outdoors or inside?"

"Inside. Until we know what we're dealing with here."

H-482 thought that at least they'd be able to keep a better eye on the scum that way. There was something wrong about this place. He thought about it as he returned to the perimeter position where TN-1017 was and once again scanned the forest. Earlier, there had been plenty of sunlight. The fronds at the top of the trees didn't block it all out. So why so few plants on the ground? Also, no birdsong, no droning of insects, no hooting or calling of anything.

The other troopers had been mostly raised on ships and in sterile, controlled environments, so maybe it didn't strike them as odd. H-482 considered that he'd seen the movement of that bug on the trunk earlier, but he hadn't seen it as what it was – a potential threat – until it was literally crawling on someone. The general, in fact. He thought he heard that clicking noise again – still from out in the darkness and he still saw nothing that was causing it.


	39. Lady 2

[Lady]

* * *

She made a gesture at FL-2216 and directed one finger at the general. A short nod told her the order was received and understood. FL-2216 was now assigned to guard the general. CL-0745 returned to the ramp, standing at the side of it, and turned off the mute for the open comm channel.

Before she said anything, she reviewed assignments. Fire Team 1 stood at north and east: FN-9013 with FN-9028 to the north, FN-9037 with FN-9048 to the east. Electronics Specialist FN-9021, Bigs, was on relief duty, but was currently standing with FN-9037 and FN-9048 – Sharps and Blaze. Blaze and Bigs were virtually inseparable, so she wasn't surprised.

Fire Team 2 had south and west: H-482 was back with TN-1017 to the south, leaving DL-8192 with DL-1364 to the west. That was not good dispersion. DL-1364 needed more direction than she was likely to get from DL-8192. H-482 was choosing his watch partners based on his personal preferences and not what his people needed. She'd need to talk to him about that. FO-1282 was on relief and currently inside the shuttle – also not good. H-482 should have been getting to know his newest recruit, not leaving her to her own devices. She was a private, after all.

"FN-9013, have FN-9021 assign to west guard. H-482, have DL-1364 report to me after being relieved by FN-9021." The fire team commanders acknowledged orders and people moved. The Resistance people stopped talking about the bugs, watching the troopers with a wariness CL-0745 made note of. Unasked, FO-1282 came to the top of the ramp. She seemed to have good instincts. CL-0745 waved her down.

When DL-1364 arrived, CL-0745 told them, "Remove the chairs from the deck in the main compartment and stow them in the cargo hold." The two troopers went up the ramp. The Resistance people came toward her, evidently with the intent of going up as well. CL-0745 stayed where she was in the middle of the ramp and ignored them. She pretended to toggle her helmet, but it was still on the open channel anyway. "Perimeter guards, tighten it up. FL-2216, you're in charge of pulling in the fire teams."

By now, the Resistance had stopped in front of her, milling uncertainly. There was enough room they could push past her, but not enough to walk freely and she was right in the middle on purpose. She had not specifically said they couldn't go in, but there she was anyway. General Hux walked past the traffic jam she was causing. "First sergeant," he said cordially. She stepped to the side and let him by, then followed him up.

"What was that all about?" the shorter of the Resistance women grumbled. Finn made some indecipherable noises in response. Or maybe the woman understood them. CL-0745 did not.

DL-1364 and FO-1282 were working on the second of the four chairs. The deck panels near the cockpit were up, allowing access to the cargo hold. General Hux went to the refresher on the opposite end of the shuttle. CL-0745 stopped at the top of the ramp now, blocking it as she had at the bottom.

The shorter woman asked, "Why does she keep doing that? Are we supposed to walk around her? Push her out of the way?"

Finn was clearer this time. "No. We're supposed to stand here like soldiers until she gives the all-clear."

The slightly-taller Resistance woman, K-nel?, said, "They've got the deck up and are putting the chairs away. We can't really go in there anyway without it being a fall hazard." She was on the left and had a better line of sight to the front of the shuttle than the other woman did.

"We could help put the chairs up," the shorter woman offered. The Wookiee made noises and wandered off in an impatient huff. The rest waited.

Once the deck was cleared and safe for entry, CL-0745 let the Resistance wander in. She went into the rear compartment and considered the sleeping pads. Doubled up, they were softer than a single. Four were softer than two, as far as that went. But how to divide them, if at all? She was pondering that when the door to the refresher opened behind her. She turned back, muting herself from the open comm channel. "Sir. Your quarters." Maybe he would answer the question she wasn't going to ask.

He looked at the room and touched the doorframe. It was not stout like the bulkhead between cockpit and main compartment. It was just a partition – more than cosmetic, but not structural. "No. I'll-, No,_ we_ will sleep with our people. We shouldn't be divided."

"Yes sir." That was the answer she needed. With that clarified, she picked up the sleeping pad and pulled it apart. "The sleeping pads?"

"Yes. I'll take one."

She took the other for herself. As she came out, she saw the perimeter guard was filing in. She'd heard their chatter. FL-2216 brought up the rear and closed the hatch. It was now just as crowded in here as it had been before. People naturally picked sides – the Resistance went starboard or ramp-side; the troopers went port or console-side.

"I guess we just sleep on the floor," the shorter woman was saying.

CL-0745 did a quick calculation – every Resistance member was armed, as was every present member of the Order. The Order outnumbered them, but the Resistance were likely better fighters – being seasoned veterans of live combat and herself and her unit merely of simulations. Also, they had two Force users, but her knowledge of what they could do was scant.

The general had given her an idea, though. She approached K-nel, since other than Commander Dameron she didn't know who was ranked what, and K-nel had helped with the cups. "Your Force users can have the rear compartment," she offered, hoping this attempt at subterfuge worked.

"Oh," the other woman said. "Okay. Thank you." She turned to the one named Rey and shrugged at her.

"Yeah," Rey said. "That's good. Are there two bunks in there?" She went back to inspect.

CL-0745 turned to the troopers. "Bunk on the floor. We'll have five watches, two hours each-"

"Wait," interrupted the smaller woman. What was her name again? "Where are they standing watch? We're all in the same room."

Finn touched her arm. "Em, Rose." He gestured at the cockpit. "In there. I'm sure. They're not going to be standing right over us."

Rose! Yes. It had been mentioned earlier. Rose said, "But they'll be coming back and forth through here while we're sleeping? We really should have someone standing watch _with_ them. For our sake."

"I agree," K-nel said.

CL-0745 glanced over at the general, but he was minding his own business sitting on the floor, loosening his belt and looking lost in thought. There were only two seats in the cockpit and while she could require the Resistance 'guard' to stand, she didn't see a tactical reason to have three guards. The sensors and comm system were down so there was nothing to monitor aside from each other and whatever they could see out the viewport.

She said, "One guard from our side. One from yours. Two hour shifts."

Rose nodded. She turned to the others as they discussed who would go when. There were eight of them. Three lucky members wouldn't stand watch. For the First Order, she turned and made assignments: "Schedule: FN-9037 on first watch, FN-9028 on second, H-482 on third, DL-8192 on fourth, FO-1282 on fifth."

CL-0745 would be awake by fifth watch (and likely fourth, if she got to sleep soon enough) and thereby have a chance to personally monitor FO-1282. She was due a debriefing for the events that had brought FO-1282 into her unit, but during active deployment wasn't the best time to get it. Maybe she'd have time in the morning.

CL-0745 took off her helmet. The troopers did likewise, stripping to the black body glove they all wore. They lined up by team and rank in standard order, staking out their spots on the floor with their heads toward the hull and feet toward the Resistance. Armor was piled up at their feet, helmet next to their head. FN-9037, still in armor, went to the cockpit for his watch.

The Resistance bickered a bit more about who was lying where. The surface of the ramp was ridged enough to be unpleasant to lie on and then they needed to discuss how much room each of them needed. Apparently, Chewbacca kicked in his sleep. And Rose was concerned they leave a big enough walkway so no one would get stepped on in the dark by someone going to the refresher or the cockpit. (Which wouldn't be an issue if they had helmets, but they didn't.) CL-0745 tried to tune them out.

Just as she was succeeding, Commander Dameron came over and said, "This space open?" She looked up at him in surprise. The pilot was looking at the general, not her.

She and the general exchanged looks. He looked wary, but was it of Poe or her? CL-0745 was just tensing to rise and deal with Dameron as an interloper when the general said, "Yes."

Well. It was of her, then. He and Dameron had arrived together when she'd first seen them on the _Finalizer_. Clearly there was more to the two of them, but she couldn't fathom what. Maybe they knew each other from somewhere? It didn't matter; it wasn't her business. She rolled on her side, facing away and giving them what little privacy she could.


	40. Hux 11

[Hux]

* * *

They elected to sleep within the shuttle – all twenty-one of them – with two persons on guard duty in the forward compartment (one stormtrooper and one Resistance member, on two-hour shifts), and two persons getting the bunks in the rear compartment. The first sergeant automatically reserved the rear compartment for Hux. While he appreciated the thought, he countermanded it because it seemed tactically unwise to close himself off from the rest of his people. But he did avail himself of one of the two sleeping mats.

With that, he retired to the forward corner out of the way. He took off his boots and gloves, then laid his weapon belt between himself and the wall. He loosened a few clasps but otherwise lay down dressed. He lay on his side, facing the room, and wadded himself into the corner. He was not looking forward to sleeping in a room full of people – assuming he was able to sleep at all.

The others sorted themselves out. The Force users ended up in the bunks, which was what Hux had expected. He had not expected the first sergeant to have the foresight to steer them that way, separating them from their allies and reducing the chance the Resistance would try to kill them in their sleep. That the Resistance took to the separation easily indicated they had yet to formulate a plan to get rid of them. He worried that telling Poe about the food shortage would accelerate that. But for now, Poe hadn't had time to pass the information along.

The stormtroopers took off their armor and laid themselves out in a neat line across one side of the ship, with a respectful space between them and their general. That left the Resistance to fill the other side and figure out how to accommodate the Wookiee's absurd height, which translated into length on the floor, and the other big alien's sprawling sleep configuration. They managed it by lying in two blocks of differing directions, thus confirming the First Order wisdom of not allowing anomalously sized persons in their ranks.

Poe moved near his feet. "This space open?" He gestured at the spot left bare between himself and the troopers.

Hux stared at him, then over at CL-0745, who looked rattled by the suggestion a Resistance member might bed down on their side. Hux said, "Yes." The first sergeant rolled on her side, facing away. Probably mortified. Hux felt his skin heat. This was not going to remain secret for long. Whatever 'this' even was.

Poe laid down on his back. Once everyone was settled in, the lights were dimmed to five percent and the hatch to the cockpit was closed. There was another round of grousing and murmuring as people shifted and resettled themselves. The Resistance folk complained of the hard floors. The troopers did not. No one was comfortable, but it was dry, safe, and warm – all advantages over trying to camp outside.

Hux was just starting to relax when he heard three distinct, purposeful swipes across the edge of the floor pad he was lying on. He reached out slowly, unsurprised to find Poe's hand in the dark, palm-down. But … he was taken by the contact. It was bare skin. Poe didn't jerk away. He didn't move at all for a while. Neither did Hux, letting his fingertips rest against the back of Poe's hand, just feeling him.

He tried and failed to remember the last time, if ever, he'd touched someone like this, skin to skin and lingeringly. It had definitely happened briefly and unintentionally before. He'd touched people during combatives, but that wasn't … like this. Years, at least. Ever?

He could see the outline of Poe's body. He was still on his back. Poe rotated his hand slowly so that Hux's fingers were on his palm. A moment later, Hux slid his hand forward, clasping Poe's in a handshake configuration. He heard Poe breathe out heavily – not quite a sigh – and held his hand with a light grip.

Hux rubbed the back of Poe's hand with his thumb. He reached over with his other hand and smoothed it over the man's shirt, up to his forearm, finding his elbow. He returned to his wrist and made quick work of the cuff fastenings, even in the dark. He heard Poe let out a puff of air and felt him squeeze his hand again. Hux passed his hand up the bared flesh of the man's arm. It was hairy on the outside of his arm, smooth on the other side where he could reach, and very strange to touch anyone like this. Very strange.

Hux's breathing was starting to change. He was certain, with the confidence that came of wanting a thing too much, that Poe would allow anything he wanted, whatever he thought he might be able to get away with … on the floor of a stranded shuttle, surrounded by Resistance members and possibly judgmental troopers. Wanting or not, Hux wasn't that stupid.

He smoothed Poe's shirt sleeve back down his arm and gradually withdrew his hand. He folded his arms to himself and touched over the singing nerves of his hands. They were hot. They felt too much. He touched them to his lower face and rubbed them against his lips. They smelled like another human being and it had definitely been so long since he'd had someone's scent on him that he noticed. He thought he saw Poe's eyes glint in the low light, watching him, so he folded his hands into his armpits and shut his eyes so he wouldn't see anything.


	41. Rey 8

[Rey]

* * *

"The dark side of the Force is a deep well-spring of power," Kylo said with frustration as he put the datacrons back in their bag. The devices could only be accessed using the Force and neither he nor Rey were able to do it at the moment – not even the small trickle that would be required. "It is always there, constant and unwavering. I shouldn't be cut off from it like this! Not _still_."

"Neither should I," Rey said with a hint of offense that he thought he was being singularly persecuted. "It's not like the light side abandons people either."

"Yes, it does," Kylo said. "It always does. The light side is like the rain. Sometimes it's there. Sometimes it's not. Changeable as the weather."

Rey scoffed, sitting cross-legged on the top bunk that she'd claimed for herself. She'd gone first and her meditations had proved no more fruitful than his. "There's no difference. They're balanced. It's not as though the dark side is more powerful."

"But it is."

"It _isn't_."

"The dark side destroys," he said. "The light side creates. It is easier to destroy than to create. Creating is … tedious."

Rey shook her head. "I don't believe this. You don't actually believe what you're saying, do you?" She leaned over to look down at him. Kylo gave her a puzzled, offended look. She continued, "Creation … creates something. At the end of it, you _have_ something. That's powerful. Destruction is _not _powerful. It's just destruction!"

"Creation means nothing if it's destroyed. The power to destroy things, to unmake them, is _true_ power."

"So you go around destroying things! It means more to create things in the first place. Everyone across the galaxy creates things. That's society, culture, love!"

"Exactly – everyone creates. If you have the Force, there's no reason to focus on something anyone and everyone can do. The dark side gives you control, select your targets-"

"No, that's a lie! It's ridiculous."

"It is not a lie!"

"It _is_!"

Kylo threw himself down on the lower bunk. To both of their surprise, they had earlier discovered it was long enough for his frame. So was the top one, but Rey had put dibs on it first because the idea of having Kylo lording it over her, whether literal or metaphorical, got her hackles up. It was bad enough how tall he was, but that wasn't something she'd trade away for anything. Kylo said, "I'm not going to have a … yelling argument with you … _here_."

"Fine with me. Lights to ten percent." She laid down as well, giving a superior sniff. She was right; the two were balanced; and there was no possible way the dark side was stronger. But he didn't believe that and his absolute certainty that she was wrong kept needling at her. There was no way she was getting to sleep until this was settled and if his breathing was any indication, he wasn't asleep either. "Ugh," she said. "You are so frustrating."

"Am I?" His voice sounded teasing and more velvety than it had a right to. _He_ had moved on from the argument even if she hadn't.

She leaned over the side of her bunk, even though she couldn't see him very well. "You are! I don't know how anyone puts up with you!"

"Come down here and I'll show you. I'm sure I can help you with your … frustration."

She leaned out further, peering at him in the dimness. She swung her arm out to make a rude gesture at him and miscalculated. Even in the short time she'd had a tentative mastery over the Force, she'd already come to rely on it for minor things like keeping her balance. Ironically, without it, she was literally unbalanced and the grand, obscene gesture she was trying to make toppled her off the bunk. There weren't any safety rails, after all. "Wahh!"

Kylo reached out reflexively. She fell onto his outstretched arm as he, too, demonstrated that he was accustomed to relying on the Force. But he couldn't summon a power to stop her fall. He could just break her fall a bit (and was lucky it wasn't at the cost of breaking his arm), and then fall on top of her as part of his lunge to save her.

They ended in an ungainly, undignified heap on the floor. She shoved on him. He was huge. But she didn't ask him to move, or demand it, because she figured he would. She didn't quite want that. Instead she shoved him and then shoved him again when he barely shifted. His size was … impressive. It did something to her, something inside her that had nothing to do with the Force. It was a tightness and a heat and a _need_.

"I didn't expect you to take me up on it," he said, catching one of her wrists in his hand. His hands were … big. Just as big as they'd felt engulfing her shoulder earlier.

"What, can't deliver?" she challenged him. With her free hand, she found the side of his face. He sucked in air and so did she. It felt so strange to touch him, especially this intimately. She cupped it, petting his face a little, her thumb moving back and forth between his cheek and the side of his nose. She felt him lean into it and for a moment, that's all it was between them – soft and gentle.

"I can deliver." He leaned forward, fumbled the kiss in the darkness, and his lips found her cheek.

She giggled and tilted her head. "Let me guide you, you big … destroyer." The _Ravager_ had been the name of the star destroyer crashed on Jakku, the one she'd scavenged through for years. "My ravager," she whispered against his lips, finding them in the dark. He made a sound – surprise and interest – then his lips sealed over hers. Something lurched and flexed inside her. She wanted him. She could feel it. She was thankful, so thankful, that both of them were exhausted or burned out from the Force, because she didn't want to deal with knowing he knew how he was making her feel.

She shoved him again, this time with purpose, pushing him over onto his back. She straddled him, her legs on either side of his waist, sitting on his belly more or less. She had a hand on his chest, only a single layer of cloth between her palm and his hard muscle. He still held her other wrist with one hand. His other was on her thigh, stroking. This was about to go somewhere, somewhere she suddenly wasn't sure she wanted to go. Or rather, she wanted to go there, but wasn't sure about the consequences. "How soundproof is this compartment?" she asked, stalling.

"Um … the _forward_ compartment – the cockpit – is soundproof. That's so you can take private communications and control information. And vice versa, so the pilots can be isolated from any conversation the passengers might have in the main hold. But this is just a sleeping area."

"So? What does that mean?"

"They've already heard us."

She sighed in aggravation, but there was also a bit of satisfaction that she'd found an out. She stood up.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"I'm not … I'm not going to do this. It's not because of the soundproof or not. I'm not ready." She climbed back to her bunk and insinuated herself under the single blanket. Over her shoulder, she said, "I hardly know you."

He made a dissatisfied groan and sat up. "That's not true. We're fated to be together," he said sulkily.

"To work together, maybe. But the other? I'm not even sure I like you." Which was a lie and not, at the same time. She wanted him. She didn't want to want him, but she did all the same. She kept finding herself running hot and cold with him (or rather, scalding and lukewarm, but she wouldn't admit that, either). It was annoying, she told herself. _He_ was annoying. But she knew part of it was her, too. And now that the Force wasn't in the picture and she _still_ felt this way ... She sighed.

He got himself back in his bunk. "'Liking' doesn't have to have anything to do with being with someone. Look at my parents."

"And how did that work out for them? How did it work out for _you_?" she snapped. "When I first met your father, he hadn't been with her for years. That's not what I want. I want a family who will be there for me. Not leave at the first sign of trouble." Of this she was certain.

He was silent and she thought she might be being unfair, because it sounded a lot like she was blaming him for his father's behavior. She'd heard the stories people told during Han's funeral – he was a smuggler, a rogue, and a rapscallion – getting into trouble and going on grand adventures, telling people off and then showing up in the nick of time. Maybe it had been fun from his point of view, but she couldn't help thinking about everyone he'd angered and disappointed in his path, from Jabba the Hutt to Leia Organa. And his own son. Even the worst scum of the galaxy were done with him.

If Kylo thought that was how a person should act … well, she told herself she was glad she'd returned to her bunk when she had.


	42. Hux 12

[Hux]

* * *

Eyes shut or not, Hux didn't sleep for the entirety of the first watch. He lay on the floor listening to the obnoxious sounds of the former supreme leader getting it on with the Jedi in the rear compartment and the combined sounds of more than a dozen other beings sleeping in close proximity. One of the aliens snored (his money was on the one that had assaulted him) and at least one of the stormtroopers if his sense of direction was any good.

Poe's breaths were light and relaxed, only audible because he was no more than an arm's length away. At least Ren's coupling didn't last especially long, though Hux couldn't make sense of it aside from some initial raised voices, a long silence, and then a cry, a few heavy thumps, and more subdued noises. He would have greatly preferred not to have heard any of it. Ren couldn't have joined up with the Resistance more than a few days prior and to think he'd already found someone who wanted him that way was atrocious.

Then again, there was the matter of Dameron.

First shift sent out the Resistance member first to wake their replacement, then the stormtrooper emerged in armor and woke the second member of the watch. The first stormtrooper took off his armor. The second one put his on. Although they tried to hold down the clatter, the sleeping sounds died down considerably during this transition. It was enough of a disturbance to wake people, but knowing what was going on, they kept quiet and returned to slumber.

But not Hux. He wasn't trying to stay awake. He just felt uneasy and his mind wouldn't stop. The first sergeant had allocated plenty of time for everyone, even those who stood watch, to get a full night's sleep. Obviously (and correctly in his view), she was prioritizing everyone being well-rested for their next day over any benefits of early rising. There was no telling where the Resistance was in their day cycle anyway. His thoughts spun away to considering this sun's transit time and deciding it indicated a cycle of twenty to twenty-two hours, followed by the various ways he could test and refine this assumption.

He really needed to sleep. The planet was going to spin with or without his calculations. His head was aching again and at this point, he was eating into his own allocation of sleep. The Order needed him- Well, _he_ needed to be well-rested. As the second shift stretched on, he closed his eyes and tried various breathing exercises and mantras. He tried meditating. He tried- It worked.

For how long, he didn't know. He dreamed. His crew was lined up – all the people who had confessed to knowing him on some level while in the First Order. One after another, they were going to be killed. Gruesomely. Brendol was laughing at him from inside the same bacta tank he'd inhabited the last time Hux had seen him, when he'd been dying from Phasma's poison. But now he had reconstituted himself somehow and was ordering the deaths of those in front of him.

Hux was going to feel every death. Somehow he knew that the better he knew a particular person, the more he'd feel as they were killed. He felt their pain. He felt their terror. He heard Brendol telling them, whispering directly into their mind like Snoke had occasionally done: _Call out for Armitage Hux. Call out for your general who abandoned you in your hour of need. Call out to him and if he answers, you will be spared._

Hux realized he was already there, lurking in the shadows. He could end this just by stepping out. Step out and reveal himself? Another person died. It was a pang, but he didn't even know their name. They had said they knew him without knowing exactly what Brendol meant. Everyone in the First Order knew him at least somewhat. This might take a very long time.

A new person was led up. Hux recognized her immediately. Unamo – Chief Petty Officer Nastia Unamo, who had served with him on the bridge of the _Finalizer_ for years. He was going to feel this one, and strongly.

_Kill her very slowly,_ Brendol said, looking in the direction of the shadows where Hux hid like the coward he was. He recoiled, feeling like a boy facing his overbearing father, knowing Rae Sloane was nowhere near to ward him off. He whimpered and flinched as Unamo was burned and shocked. She screamed in the background as he covered his mouth. He tried not to scream as well, knowing how important it was to stay hidden.

"Hey. Hey." It was a soft voice, incongruous with what was playing out in his mind. "Hux. Hux?" It was the hand that woke him. Poe's closed over his, which wasn't at his mouth as he'd thought but lying on the mat in front of him. Hux gasped and jerked, finding himself trapped by a firm grip. Poe held on only a second, but it was enough of a pause that Hux didn't draw his knife or do anything else unnecessary.

Poe withdrew his hand as Hux panted. His heart was beating too fast. He tucked his hands protectively across his chest and tried to make himself small. How much noise had he been making? The room had fallen nearly silent again. Not even the alien was snoring (although the stormtrooper was dutifully making up for it, so not everyone had woken to witness his distress).

"It's okay," Poe said softly. "It was just a nightmare." Deliberately, Poe extended his hand again, making three distinct swipes against the edge of the floor mat just as he had before. It took Hux a moment to realize what he was doing – that he was offering or asking for contact. Hux reached out hesitantly, sliding his hand into Poe's and trusting him not to use it to yank him forward or bind him. Poe squeezed lightly a few times and let their joined hands settle to the mat.

Hux's breaths deepened as the terror and shame receded. His skin prickled with phantom pain, but he refused to accept it as real. Instead, he rubbed his thumb across Poe's hand – _that_ was real. Poe squeezed and relaxed his grip, a gradual press that involved stroking his fingers along the bottom of Hux's hand. He wasn't being mocked or coddled. He didn't know why Poe was doing this, but Hux liked it. He sighed, then moved his fingers forward to find the delicate skin of the inside of Poe's wrist. He liked it a lot.

"Mmm," Poe gave a pleased hum.

"Too loud," Hux said. Although he said it quietly, someone in the room made a noise suspiciously like a snort or a choked laugh. He wasn't even sure which side of the compartment it came from. Embarrassment came flooding back, thinking about how he'd felt overhearing Ren's noises. He pulled his hand away.

Poe pulled in air as though to object, but to Hux's relief, he didn't speak. He touched the mat again, this time a simple pattern of tapping three times. Hux ignored him and squeezed his eyes shut, but then became concerned he couldn't see the room. So he rolled over, but that put his back to everyone. He sat up, knees drawn up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them, back to the wall, and fondled the knife scabbard on his forearm through the fabric of his shirt.

The feelings from the dream swirled in his head and shivered against his skin. By now, Unamo's torture would be nearing its end and here he was touching hands with some filthy Resistance member to distract himself from it. But that was just a nightmare, right? It couldn't be real. Could it? And what if it was? There was nothing he could do about it if it was. His breath caught in an unexpected sob.

Poe propped himself up on his elbow. "Hux?"

He got control of himself. "Go to sleep. That's an order." He didn't want to pull rank, most of all because his ability to enforce it was tenuous at best, but he didn't know how else to deal with what was going on for him. CL-0745 rolled over so she was facing Poe's back, so maybe there was some enforcement capability after all, loathe though Hux was to use it.

Poe didn't push it. He lowered himself back to the deck and did a good act of going to sleep.

Hux rested his forehead on his knees and tried to stay focused on the here and now, blocking out thoughts of anything else. If it were true, then Darth Sidious was trying to break him. If it were not, then there was no reason to waste his energy obsessing about it. Either way, his best path was to ignore it.

He didn't think he dozed, but the swishing open of the door to the forward compartment caught him by enough surprise that he must have. He was sweaty and trembling. There had been others after Unamo. He shook it off. Or tried. He felt the way one would if in formation and the drill sergeant was blowing the brains out of troopers at random, while you were required to stay at attention. Hux was disciplined. But it was hard.

From the lit chamber within emerged the slick-skinned alien. C'ai, he'd been called, and Hux had overheard others using 'he' to refer to it. If he had been on watch, then no wonder Hux hadn't heard the beast's snoring. It was a small solace. Maybe his nightmare hadn't been noticed by everyone.

Hux watched as the thing went to one of the Rebels and shook her awake. It was Kaydel. He didn't know if that was a first or last name, only that it was the one Rey had told him. She got to her feet, stretched, and limped to the forward compartment. The alien went to his designated sleeping area.

A few moments later, a stormtrooper emerged with another swish of the door. Hux intercepted him. "I'll take next watch."

He was well trained enough not to pause before saying, "Yes sir."

"Which one stands the watch after - the one I'll need to wake?"

"Fifth from the back, sir." The trooper pointed. "H-482. The one who snores."

That was plenty of identification. "Dismissed." Hux went inside.

Kaydel looked at him with wide eyes. "I thought it was all going to be troopers who stood watch for the Order."

"I can't sleep. I might as well." He slid into the pilot's seat. It was more comfortable than sitting on the floor, folded in on himself. He looked across the various controls. Everything was off other than environmental controls and short range scanners. The scanners were showing a little more resolution than he'd seen earlier, but they weren't what he'd call functional. There didn't seem to be much to do aside from stare out into the darkness.

A variety of local arthropods (or perhaps they were insects) were on the viewport, probably attracted by the light, even though it was at no more than fifty percent in this compartment. Of the three different types he saw, he wasn't sure which was the type that had scrabbled against his neck earlier. They made his skin crawl to look at them. Or maybe that was a lingering effect of his dreams.

To distract himself, Hux asked his companion, "What … name am I to call you by?"

"Kaydel."

He nodded. The door behind them opened again.

It was Poe. Poe said to Kaydel, "I can take this watch if you want to get some sleep."

She scoffed, but rose. "The hard floor beckons."

Hux said, "You, um …" She stopped and looked to him. "My … The sleeping pad isn't being used."

"I'm on it." She left.

He breathed out when the door shut behind her. Poe was still standing. Hux blinked up at him, remembering the hug, lying next to each other looking at the stars, touching in the dark. It sounded very romantic. They were stranded out here, he was in charge, and he didn't have time for 'romance,' but he really wanted … something. Something Poe seemed to be offering. Hux didn't have the words or concepts to express it, but his expression must have said something on its own.

Poe stepped closer and raised his hand slowly, as though half-expecting Hux to pull away. He didn't. Poe moved forward and gently, carefully, ran his fingers along Hux's hair. It was probably disorderly. The gel was coming out of it. Hux doubted there was any in the ship's supplies. He'd combed it before turning in, but of course it was mussed again. A soft smile turned Poe's lips.

He curled his hand and let his knuckles barely graze Hux's temple, then down his cheek to his jaw. As his hand moved forward to Hux's chin, it rotated so his fingertips were touching him. Hux shivered in want. He breathed out roughly and his skin heated. He pulled his face away. "You … You should take your seat."

In a voice that was awed, Poe said, "I am _really _digging how into me you are."

Hux turned back to him, brows upturned. He desperately didn't want to be alone. He wanted another embrace. He was too vulnerable, too needy, too weak and he knew it. As Poe obviously knew as well.

"Yeah." Poe nodded even though Hux had said nothing. "That." Poe finally went to the other seat, for which Hux was thankful.

"You have … been kind to me. And interested."

Poe sat and turned the chair halfway toward him. He seemed about to say something flippant, then changed to, "You've had that combination before, right?"

Hux gave a rueful smile and looked out at the darkness. "No. You _are_," he glanced back, "interested, correct?" His voice betrayed his insecurity more than he wanted it to, but he was tired and they were alone.

"Oh yeah," Poe answered with a smirk and a throaty rumble. "I'm interested. Very much so. I've never had anyone blush so much for me."

Which of course triggered another one. Hux sighed disconsolately and tried to hide it by wiping at his gritty eyes. It didn't work, but at least he wasn't looking at Poe grinning at him.

"It's amazing," Poe said. "And flattering."

"Under other circumstances, you must know, I would have you strung up on an interrogation rack." And he had, which made this doubly strange. At some point, he would need to question Poe's motives, but for now Hux was too distracted by enjoying Poe's interest, regardless of where it came from. It felt like a lifeline.

Poe's expression did some odd things – concern, soberness, humor, then his own blush. "Under the _right_ circumstances, I might not mind."

Hux blinked at him, trying to work out what he meant. Poe's voice implied something indecent. Hux pursed his lips and stared out at the dark again, remembering rumors and innuendo about an officer sexually using prisoners. Brendol had said the accusations were baseless and even if true, irrelevant. Was _that_ what Poe meant? But … he wouldn't mind? Hux pinched the bridge of his nose. His eyes were itchy. He hoped he could make sense of this after some rest. When he could think. When his head didn't hurt.

He turned to stare out at a fist-sized pill bug currently struggling and failing to climb the apparently too-slippery view port. He felt a prickle along his spine. Someone had called out to him. He didn't answer. He studied the bug instead. It seemed to be suctioning off the tree goop that had smeared the ship during their crash, but it couldn't get to the stuff higher up.

"You're a really by-the-book kind of guy, aren't you?" Poe asked after a long pause.

"Yes." Poe had his attention again.

"So tell me," Poe went on, "how do we do this by-the-book?"

"Do what?"

"Are _you_ interested? You didn't say."

Hux sighed and looked away. "I thought you said you could tell."

"I can. I want to hear it. Are you?"

He rubbed at his eyes again. "There is no way to do this … by-the-book. I don't know." He sighed. "Wait." Poe did. There was nothing else to do. Hux shook his head. "I don't know … that the First Order regulations even matter. But that may be just … fatalism."

"Well. Okay. But it's what you grew up with so even if it's gone, it's still in your head. So how do people in the First Order date?"

"You want to date me?"

"Uh-huh."

"That's ridiculous."

"Trust me," Poe smiled. "I know. But tell me about it just hypothetically, between any two officers."

"It would _have_ to be between officers."

"Why's that? Stormtroopers don't date?"

"No." Hux chuckled at how silly that was. "Of course not."

"How do you stop them? It's biology. Basic drives. They can't turn it off any more than you can."

"Oh?" Hux raised his brows at Poe.

Poe blinked, then jerked his head to look at the closed hatch to the main compartment, then back to Hux. "That explains what Rose … You neuter them somehow. How? What do you do? Is it reversible? Can he fix it?"

"You mean Finn?"

"Yes! I mean Finn." There was an urgency in Poe's tone.

Hux gave him a less than impressed look for his strong tone, but on the other hand, he had to respect Poe's loyalty to his friends. "It is reversible. The hormonal regulation is through the food. Unless he's acquired some other form of contraceptive in the meantime, it should be fading and his 'basic drives' as you put them should be resurfacing."

"How long does it take?"

"I don't know. I'm not a doctor. The main computer might have relevant files. There's nothing restricted from my clearance level." Hux gestured at the console, though he wasn't sure if the relevant files would be in the standard data banks of a shuttle. Come to think of it, it probably wouldn't be. The sort of emergency medical information they carried would never mention hormonal regulation.

"Wait, the food? Was it in those meal bars?"

Hux laughed a little at that. "Anyone might pilfer a meal bar during travel! No, of course not. The drugs are long-enough acting that troopers can be deployed for short assignments without any attention to it. It's only when assignments are for …" Hux waved his hand vaguely in the air. "I really don't know. Ask me about the hyperdrive engines and I have answers. But not about the internals of a human being." Aside from where he needed to stab one.

"Okay. Okay. Does Finn know this?"

"Stormtroopers aren't allowed to procreate. He knows that. Is he aware that the disinterest in sex he's felt his whole life is medically induced? I have no idea. The method isn't something we advertise."

"Stormtroopers. What about the officers?"

"What about them? It's voluntary, a decision made on an individual level."

"Are you … taking …?"

"No."

Poe nodded slowly. Softer, he asked, "Are you interested? In me?"

"You want an answer." Hux frowned.

"Yeah, I do. If the answer's no, then I'll stop."

"No," Hux said hastily, then realized what he'd said. "No, I mean- No. It's- Yes, I'm … I'm interested." He exhaled tensely. "Fine. There. You have it."

Poe covered his mouth and chuckled. "Okay. Thank you. Now, how do two officers date, if they're interested in one another?"

Hux sighed heavily. "Generally, it involves … I … They … go in one another's quarters a lot." He colored again. "I don't know, Poe. I've never done it. I've never paid much attention to those who did." Listening to Ren and Rey bang about in the rear compartment was the most exposure he'd ever had to the matter outside of routine educational classes.

"What about the people you work with?"

"What about them?"

"Do they date each other?"

"The older ones were already settled. The younger ones generally weren't. A great many people in the First Order are … were … very young." How many of them were still alive? His expression sobered. Mitaka? Keldane? Not Unamo. But that was only a bad dream. Survivor's guilt or some illusion Sidious was whispering into his head. He'd seen her leave the bridge, but there was no way to guarantee she'd even made it off the ship to fall into Sidious' clutches.

"Hey," Poe said, sitting straighter. "Don't drift into that black hole of despair again. I see it on your face. Don't give up." He extended his hand. The pilot and copilot sat just close enough to touch if they both reached out.

Hux sat forward and did. Their fingers touched. He could just hold Poe's fingers between his own fingers and thumb. "I … Earlier, when I refused you … I shouldn't have, but I had to."

"You had to? Why?" Hux just shook his head. He kept fondling Poe's fingers. Poe went on, "I think you'll find the Resistance is more understanding than you think. We've got both Kylo and Finn among us and they're not the only First Order people we've been around. You're all people. We know that."

"Yes, well, I'm concerned about my own people as well. They need an image of strength to follow. Having night terrors and … being consoled … That's not …" He pulled away now.

Poe let his hand drop. "You're doing fine. You're human. And if it comes to it, me, and probably most of the Resistance folks here, will defend you against your own troopers."

Ren at least had saved Hux's life for a reason. Hux didn't think he'd have done that if he were willing to let it be squandered. Not unless Hux became an irritant to him and so far he had not been. Hux said, "Your words are very comforting."


	43. Lady 3

[Lady]

* * *

"Lights at eighty percent. Squad up!" CL-0745 called out briskly as she left the forward compartment. FO-1282 followed her. The designated ten hours had passed (eight sleeping and two on watch for some of them). With the exception of DL-1364, the troopers woke quickly and without protest. DL-1364's eyes opened, but she just stared at the ceiling.

For now, CL-0745 left that alone. She knew the trooper's problems and didn't want to call attention to them in the view of the Resistance. "FO-1282, you're first in the refresher. Blaze and Ten-ten, get your boots on then you're next. The rest of you armor up and go in rotation as the room is free. Relieve yourself, wash your hands, and see to your teeth and face. No shower."

The Resistance members woke as well. A few of them were already awake, although out of consideration for those sleeping, they'd stayed quiet. K-nel was sitting cross-legged on a sleeping mat she hadn't had when they'd bedded down. There had been only two mats. As they were assigned by rank, CL-0745 had slept on one. Hux, the other. CL-0745 looked over at where General Hux was sitting on the floor against the wall, knees half drawn up and trying not to look half-asleep.

That meant Hux's sleeping mat was under K-nel's posterior. CL-0745 looked back to her with narrowed eyes, especially given Hux's state. He needed that sleeping mat. The woman had combed through, braided tightly, and pinned back her impressive amount of hair. She met CL-0745's suspicious gaze, appeared unfazed by it, and said, "They have-" she cut herself off and switched to TN-1017, "You have names? You _do_ have names!" She sounded delighted.

"That's trooper Tee-En-one-oh-one-seven to you," CL-0745 bit out. Ten-ten continued with putting on his boots like K-nel hadn't obviously addressed him. FO-1282 opened the rear compartment to enter the refresher. A moment later the sound of a lightsaber igniting saw her stop in the doorway. A red glow emanated beyond her outline, then it powered down. FO-1282 continued in, ears plastered to the side of her head. CL-0745 couldn't see what had transpired, but she gathered.

"Someone wakes up grumpy," said the pilot, from behind her. He'd scooted to where he sat upright next to the general, their backs against the bulkhead that separated the main compartment from the forward one. DL-1364 finally sat up, shooting the rear compartment a haunted look before fumbling with her boots.

K-nel wasn't done with her complaint about names. "Tee-en, ten-seventeen," she said slowly. "Ten-ten." She smiled. Ten-ten continued to ignore her.

CL-0745 said again, voice harder, "That is trooper Tee-En-one-oh-one-seven!"

Next to K-nel, Finn nudged her and explained, "Ten-ten's a squad name. You wouldn't call him that."

"Really?"

"Not even General Hux would call him that," Finn said soberly.

Various people looked over to the general. He looked thoroughly rumpled from the night. He shook his head, confirming Finn's statement.

The pilot tapped the general on the side of the knee with the back of his knuckles. "I already gave you a squad-name, Hugs."

"You can call me whatever you like," the general said carelessly, before his eyes widened at what he'd said. His gaze flashed up to CL-0745's. She stood frozen, surprised by this declaration.

"I can?" the pilot said.

Hux's face flushed. "No! That's- That's _General _Hugs to you. Hux-! Stars!" The general scrubbed his hands over his reddened face. "I haven't had enough sleep," he complained. Slowly, enunciating clearly, he said, "General. Hux."

"Sure." The pilot tapped Hux's leg again with his knuckles, this time twice. CL-0745 turned back to her squad. The general was clearly (mostly) receptive to whatever was going on between them. She mentally compared and contrasted the pilot's touches to Finn nudging K-nel. Though at the moment, it was the reverse – she saw K-nel nudge Finn and whisper something to him. CL-0745 wished she had her helmet on, because even in the same compartment, she didn't hear what was said with such a smirk.

Finn's expression went to shocked. "What?" He looked over at the pilot and the general, eyes darting between the two men.

"What is it?" Rose said from the other side of Finn.

"Stars," Hux said again, quieter and long-suffering. The pilot chuckled dryly.

"Tell you later," Finn said.

Rose said brightly, "Kaydel, how'd you get your hair to do that? Do you have a comb? Don't hold out on me here."

"Yes." Kaydel cleared her throat and handed over a small, toothed rectangle. "Here. There's one in the refresher that came with the ship, but this one's mine. It's better for longer hair."

FO-1282 came out of the refresher. Blaze went in. This time there was no lightsaber ignition from disgruntled Force users.

General Hux got to his feet and straightened his uniform. "First sergeant? Join me in the forward compartment. I need a unit report."

"Yes sir." She turned to FL-2216 and handed over command by saying, "Flag, you're up."

Hux looked at Commander Dameron, then scanned over the other Resistance members. "I will want a unit report from the Resistance members as well. If I am truly in command here, I'll need it. Whoever gives it will be your unit commander. After that we'll have a situation report and determine our strategy for the day. I'll leave you to determine who I'll be working with." He turned to CL-0745. "Sergeant?"

* * *

They evicted the Wookie from the cockpit – who was presumably still standing sentry duty – then shut the hatch behind them. Hux said, "I need your assessment of our people – rank, designations, skill sets. Start with yourself and proceed down in unit and rank."

"Sir! Yes sir. I am First Sergeant CL-0745. As of my last performance review, I was cleared for promotion to lieutenant, to be formally implemented upon completion of transition training for FL-2216, the staff sergeant of this unit and my replacement as section commander."

"Ah. An officer. Or a hair's breadth from it. Go on." He sounded pleasantly surprised.

She was glad to hear nothing of him rescinding the promotion or saying he'd have to make his own decision. "This unit is second section squadron of the first platoon, ninth company, Footsoldier legion, _Finalizer_ Internal Security. We have two fire teams. One is the original FN squad. The other is a post-Crait reconstituted unit from personnel previously on the _Supremacy_ and _Avenger_. Squad command is officially mine with Staff Sergeant FL-2216 currently functioning as XO. This is her first squad command. Or will be, once … if … I'm reassigned."

Hux didn't give her any help on that looming uncertainty, so she continued. "First fire team squad is led by Sergeant FL-9013, special skills noted in communications and exobiology. It contains Weapons Specialist FN-9037. He is the best shot in the group," she said as an aside, then went back to reciting members. "Also, Electronics Specialist FN-9021, Security Specialist FN-9028, and Private FN-9048.

"Second fire team includes Corporal H-482, Weapons Specialist TN-1017, Security Specialist DL-8192, and Electronics Specialist DL-1364. I lost two members during the assault on the _Finalizer_ to an explosion in the bridge tower, but we picked up Private FO-1282. She was the sole survivor of her unit. I have placed her in second fire team as a battlefield assignment."

"Are there any injuries among your people?"

"No … no sir." Various bruises didn't count. "DL-1364 has an ongoing behavioral issue from the Battle of Crait, but performs nominally. No physical injuries."

"What sort of behavioral issue?"

"Depression, disorientation, lack of focus and motivation." Hux stared at her evenly, no change in expression. CL-0745 wasn't sure what that meant, so she elaborated, "Grief, sir. She lost her- She lost everyone she knew. She's been to reconditioning twice-"

"I understand grief," he said, cutting her off. "And losing people. Thank you. Are there any other issues or skills I should be aware of in the rest of the unit?"

"Corporal H-482 was an adult recruit. Specialist TN-1017 has had significant planet-side experience. Given our … current situation, I think that's worth mentioning."

He nodded. "It is. Are there any who have known New Republic ties, sympathies, or interests, including Rebel idolization or Resistance interest?"

"No sir!"

He pursed his lips and there was an expression there … disappointment? Understanding flared in her mind. He wasn't asking if any of them were sympathizers because that was a bad thing, but rather, maybe he _wanted_ some of them to be sympathizers? "That's good to hear," he said finally. And that was definitely disappointment.

"No, sir- If I may?"

"Speak."

She struggled to find the right words. "You are … the ranking officer here. Whatever you order, we will do. In regard to the Resistance … if we need to work with them, we will work with them. I've seen the ship. I understand," he looked like he wanted to interrupt dismissively, so she wrapped it up, "the situation, sir. We can work together, if that is your order."

He reconsidered what he was going to say and said instead, "It may be." He did not look disappointed now. "What supplies and armament does your team have aside from personal kit?"

"None, sir. As you've seen, Weapons Specialist TN-1017 is equipped with riot control gear. Weapons Specialist FN-9037 has a heavy blaster rifle. We were moving through the halls, all in standard kit. FO-1282 had lost her belt. She had no spare blaster charge cartridges. We gave her one."

"How did she lose her unit?"

"Lost in a power system breach, probably when the forward shields went. Electrocution."

Hux twitched hard and changed the subject. "Well, then. Let's see what the Resistance has to say for themselves." She started to move to the door, but stopped at his hand gesture. "No. Stay here. I want you to hear this. If our units are to work together, you'll need to know. And as well, I'd rather not be alone with them."

"Except … Commander Dameron, sir?" she asked almost timidly, not sure how that would be taken.

He sighed. "No, I should probably have someone with me with him as well. It may be what he's angling toward, but stars knows he's already had his opportunity."

"Yes sir," she said, wondering what opportunity Dameron had had. But she didn't ask. She retired to a corner of the cockpit.


	44. Threnalli 2

[Threnalli]

* * *

The Resistance members looked at one another after the hatch slid shut behind Hux and the first sergeant. Kylo had exited the rear compartment, hair a mess and him looking bemused about it. Kaydel offered him her comb and he took it, but he didn't seem to know how to use it. It was as though bedhead and manual hair care was a new thing. Chewbacca had gone back to the ramp and lowered it so he could peer outside.

Rose asked, "Are we just going to ignore that someone has to be nominated to talk to General Hux?" She looked around as no one volunteered. "He has a point. We need to stay organized. We only have a certain number of supplies. Our people," she gestured around their side of the room, "have to talk to their people," she waved at the stormtroopers, nearly all of whom were now armored, "so we can work together. Otherwise … there will be problems."

Finn sighed. Kylo shrugged while inexpertly picking at his hair. Kaydel was watching him with a perplexed expression. Rey, who had settled against the wall next to him, looked only mildly curious about his dilemma. Poe said, "I can do it."

"Then it's solved," Kylo said. He looked at the comb with exasperation, as though this was its fault. Rey took it from him and pointed at the floor. He sighed and sat. She started in on his hair in the manner of someone who had not been accustomed to (mis-)using the Force for most of their adult life for hair styling.

C'ai spoke up. "No. It is not solved. This is an important matter. We should discuss it more than that."

"What's to discuss?" Poe said.

"You may be the highest ranked person here, but Kylo was their supreme leader. If rank mattered, he would be the automatic choice. Finn has been a stormtrooper and knows their procedures better than any of us. Connix has been a communications officer and assistant to General Organa for many years so she has done what General Hux is asking for. All of these are good reasons why they should be the candidate and not you. General Hux appears to like you, but that does not mean you will do the best job of representing us and understanding how we can work together. He will still like you even if we select someone else."

There was a moment of silence as people looked to see how Poe took that. He just shrugged. He and C'ai went way back. "Fair point," Poe conceded, which cleared the floor for the others.

C'ai wasn't through, though. "I should also mention that Rose has already worked with the general, successfully and without argument. That is important." He turned to the Wookiee on the other side of him. "Chewbacca is our oldest and most level-headed member-"

Chewie interrupted with several growls and a yip.

"Yes," C'ai said. "It is unlikely the general would understand you and mutual understanding is key for this role."

As the Abednedo turned to her, Rey jumped in to say, "Before you mention me, I withdraw myself from any nomination. I need to keep my attention on the Force, not on … whatever administrative duties this involves."

Kylo said, "Same here. Plus, I have a history with Hux. It might not have always been bad, but it would be a distraction. He and I … clash."

"I, too," C'ai said, "would not be a good candidate for that reason. I fear I would be unable to keep my temper."

Rose said, "And me. Not my temper, but," she shook her head. "I'm good at doing things. I'm not good at the talking part. I'm sure this … First Order unit commander job is more about talking than doing."

Eyes turned to Kaydel and Finn, the only two left other than Poe. Kaydel nodded to Rose. "It is. If it's like what I did for General Organa, there's a lot of coordinating involved, even for a small group. But there are going to be differences – critical differences. Just this, what we're doing right now?" She gestured around between them. "Talking about it and making a group decision? That's not how _they're _going to do it." She motioned to the stormtroopers, who were silently watching what must have been an unfathomable discussion from their point of view.

Kaydel said, "There are going to be things General Hux expects or says that only a member of the First Order will understand. And more important for us, only a member of the First Order will catch when he's suggesting something outside protocol, something different, something we should be suspicious about."

"Or a _former_ member of the First Order," Poe said, obviously understanding where Kaydel was going with this. She nodded at him.

"Me?" Finn said. "Have you forgotten I'm the traitor? He tried to have me executed."

Rose said, "If he can't get past that, the rest of us need to know that. He was going to kill me, too."

"And Kylo," C'ai said.

Kaydel said, "I'm sure he wouldn't mind killing all of us. He still might."

Finn grimaced. "If he hasn't already, then he's not going to unless something changes."

"See," Kaydel said, "you'll know that better than any of us."

Finn tilted his head and said, "Okay. I'll do it."

As if on cue, the hatch slid open. General Hux stood in the opening, his eyes going first to Poe, then to where Ren was still sitting on the floor getting his hair tended to. Whatever he saw there wasn't what he was looking for, because he had to ask aloud, "Who did you pick?"

"Me," Finn said, stepping forward and coming to proper attention. "… Sir."

Hux's expression was flat. He scanned the faces of the rest, then gestured inside as he stepped back. "Come in. Sit." The hatch slid shut after Finn entered.


	45. Finn 3

[Finn]

* * *

Finn was unsurprised when Hux gave him the silent act. It was a common and simple ploy to test discipline – stare at a person expectantly and then jump on them when they spoke out of turn, or rather 'without permission'. In the Order, underlings were supposed to speak when spoken to by their superiors and otherwise keep their mouth shut around them. This was a test that every other member of the Resistance team would have failed, because they wouldn't have even known it was a test.

Test complete, Hux leaned back in the seat he'd taken and finally spoke. "I need a unit report from you – names, ranks, capabilities and functions."

Finn had been a squad commander during training and though the rank didn't carry over when he graduated to regular service, he still knew the drill. "Commander Poe Dameron, pilot, weapons specialist," as it was easier to say that than go into the various weapons Poe was familiar with – and besides, Finn didn't know all of them, "repairs, espionage. Stuff."

Hux frowned. "'Stuff' is a very loose term."

Finn grimaced and shrugged. "He's a capable guy. Commander Rose Tico, engineering, repairs, supply. Lieutenant Kaydel Ko Connix, communications, administration, logistics. Lieutenant C'ai Threnalli, pilot, gunner. He's the Abednedo," Finn added, knowing Hux may very well not know the species – First Order often didn't go into detail beyond 'alien'. "Then there's me. Finn. Technically, I joined, but it was during the Battle of Crait and they haven't been consistent about handing out ranks."

"You- You don't have a rank?"

Finn smiled tightly, because in the Resistance as it was now, he was a hero, everyone knew his name, and his rank didn't matter. He was THE Finn. But in the First Order, to not have a rank was a debatable step above being a slave, a prisoner, or some other undesirable. "It doesn't work the same way."

"I should hope not. Is this because you defected?"

"No." Finn shook his head. "Seriously, it's because they haven't gotten around to it and it's basically unimportant."

Hux leaned forward, amazingly looking offended on Finn's behalf. "That is saying_ you_ are unimportant. But you were sent on this mission-"

"I _volunteered_ for this mission."

"But- Did they expect you to not come back?"

"No. We expected to be in and out without you noticing but it didn't work that way."

Hux blinked several times and leaned back, swallowing. "Fine," he said quietly. "You have no rank. The others?"

Finn smiled tightly again. "Well, here's the thing – they're not even Resistance members."

"What?" Hux sat forward again. "The Wookiee? He's well-known. The 'Mighty Chewbacca' of the Rebellion!"

"Yeah, but … He's definitely Leia's friend, and Rey's, and Kylo's, but he's not part of the Resistance. He's just here helping his friends." As far as Finn could tell. Finn didn't understand most of what Chewbacca said so his intentions were something of a mystery.

"What happens if he decides not to help his friends? Does his involvement just … cease?"

"Pretty much, yeah." Finn nodded, clasping his hands in front of him as he managed to keep a mostly straight face. Watching Hux struggle to deal with this was hilarious, precisely because Finn understood how nonsensical this must seem to him. He was waiting for the moment when Hux gave it up and said they were all depraved.

"The same for the Force users? You have yet to mention them. They aren't even formally aligned with the Resistance? Is that what you're telling me?"

Finn nodded. "But it doesn't mean we're not all fighting on the same side." Hux struggled to find words and failed, so Finn added, "It's more the 'anything other than the First Order' side."

"Well, at the moment, we share a common enemy."

"About that," Finn said, leaning forward. "No one else has brought it up, but I want you to formally recognize this as a truce situation. Also, whatever standing orders for the executions of myself, Rose, and Kylo are ended. We're in this together. We share risk equally. No one gets stranded and left behind on this rock when the shuttle gets fixed." Finn was emphatic about the last sentence, because that was the big deal.

Hux leaned back slowly, tilting his head. "_Resources_ will also be shared equally, including information. I want to know everything you took from the _Finalizer_ and why. I want to know whatever it is your Force users can sense of our current state."

"I can't promise those. You're going to have to take that up with them."

Hux sneered. "Because you have no real authority, is that it?"

Finn knew that was supposed to be a biting insult. He defanged it by nodding and saying, "Yeah, essentially."

"Then you're no good to me."

"Because you're trying to make me something I'm not. Like you always have," Finn said, barely containing his anger. Hux watched him warily. CL-0745 shifted in the corner. Finn said, "I am not going to force other people to do things. If you want a unit commander, an intermediary, a _leader_, I can do that."

"A core component of leading is_ requiring _others to follow," Hux bit out.

"That's not leadership. That's slavery. I've been through it. I know." Finn leaned back, studying the man. He took a wild guess – though it wasn't that wild. More like a well-informed guess. "And so have you." He looked over at the first sergeant in the corner. She wasn't giving him much (and she couldn't, given her position), but she wasn't disagreeing.

"I will keep your political philosophy in mind," Hux said in what was as close to a concession as Finn was likely to get. "Now these commanders and lieutenants. How accurate are their ranks? Are they inflated or did the Resistance really send a bevy of officers and high value assets on a retrieval mission?"

Finn's mouth opened and shut. He gave a helpless half-shrug. "I'm not sure. They're not standardized like ours- uh, the First Order's." Near as he could tell, people got the amount of responsibility they were willing to take on, but that would probably completely blow Hux's circuits so he didn't say it.

The corner of Hux's mouth quirked up and his lips tightened. "Yes, well. We'll see then. In the meantime, from what I overheard last evening, your group has a plan for repairing the ship. Tell me about it."

"You'll need to talk to Rose for that. She knows the details."

"I'm talking to _you_," Hux said in irritation, "and I didn't ask for details."

That sort of thing would be insulting in the Resistance. In the Order, not so much. Finn was unrattled and answered best he could. "Um, they're going to strip this ship of the forward winch and drag back the wing we lost."

"They need to ask permission before they go dismantling First Order property," Hux said stiffly.

"They haven't done it yet," Finn pointed out.

"Very well," the general said. "Let's get breakfast into everyone. Have Commander Tico speak with me. I'll get the details I need from her." Hux turned to CL-0745. "We'll have the situation report after that. I'll be adjusting duty assignments once I understand the scope of their intention."

"Yes sir."

"Until then, you and Finn are to consider yourselves equivalent in rank, with yourself being superior."

"Yes sir."

Hux turned back to Finn. Finn answered, "Yes sir."


	46. Teller 3

[Teller]

* * *

Teller stood at the top of the ramp exercising the privilege of her rank as team leader (and more importantly, being favored enough by FL-2216 not to have been countermanded) so that she could watch the Resistance people. They had all gone outside after the Wookiee had lowered the ramp and made several unhappy-sounding roars. (This was aside from Finn, who was still briefing the general.)

They were a fascinating group and even more fascinating had been their decision process on choosing a unit leader. They just … picked someone. And _they_ picked the person, not the person in question asserting their authority over everyone else and perhaps proving it by intimidating, harming, or even eliminating whoever challenged them. They'd just talked it out like technicians trouble-shooting a problem.

Which was basically what they were doing now. Something (probably those arthropods, as nothing bigger had showed up on the scanners overnight) had eaten a bunch of the felled tree trunk since the last time they'd seen it. This impacted some plan of the Resistance, apparently to fetch the lost wing and install it. But rather than one person gathering information, making a decision, and ordering the rest to carry it out, they were energetically chattering among themselves, like a single person's decision process cast onto multiple people.

It was noisy and slow and she didn't see how they determined which input was worth listening to, but they seemed very invested in the process. The Abednedo still had a lot to say, just as he had during the choice of unit leader, but it was mostly Rose leading the talking, despite her earlier insistence that she wasn't any good at that sort of thing. She was the one who objected to suggestions and said they would or wouldn't work. Teller kept trying to figure out who was really in charge … and kept failing.

Back in the shuttle, the hatch to the forward compartment slid open. Teller spun around and came to attention, as did the other troopers who had been waiting patiently. General Hux emerged, followed by Finn, then CL-0745. Hux and Finn continued to the ramp and went down it, passing in front of her.

CL-0745 told the rest, "_Finalizer_ team – out on perimeter duty. FL-2216, you're on the general. H-482, do another inventory of supplies with an eye to putting together a few marching packs. Don't assemble them yet. I'll give more information as I have it. The rest of you distribute breakfast. You, FO-1282. Forward. You're on scanners, if you can get them to work." The private scurried off to the forward compartment to watch what instrumentation still worked on the ship.

Teller headed out to stand watch, dispersing to her assigned task just like the rest. The Order's method seemed efficient and sensible. The Resistance was surely aware that people could do things that way. So why didn't they? It was something to ponder as she watched the quiet forest.


	47. Hux 13

[Hux]

* * *

"The repulsors are a critical component to the operation of the shuttle," Hux told Commander Tico. They were at the bottom of the ramp, with the rest of the Resistance milling around. He would have preferred privacy, or at least the illusion of it by having people stay back a polite distance. But things were as they were. "Without them, it's barely a ship. The winch we can spare." Not that he wanted to.

"The winch …" She shook her head. "It was an idea. But without the tree trunk it's not even that."

"We could cut down another," he offered.

She shook her head impatiently. "No. The repulsors are a better idea. That one will actually work. We just hadn't considered it yet because we're no keener than you are about taking apart the only way we have to get out of here. But I saw what was in the repair kit. We should be able to do it without damaging anything."

Lieutenant Threnalli put in, "We will have to go slow."

"I did not _ask_ you," Hux snarled at him.

"I did not ask for you to ask me!" the alien said, his skin darkening and his mouth tendrils inflating a little to poke stiffly out to the sides. The staff sergeant moved between them, close enough that the Abednedo moved back a step. The alien complained, "This is not how we should work together!"

Hux turned to Finn, who was watching the exchange with the same stony face most of the Resistance had at that moment. "Finn. Control your soldier." Finn moved over next to the alien, but rather than dealing with him, he squared up with staff sergeant who was now facing both of them. Behind him, Hux heard CL-0745 murmuring something inside her helmet, probably comming the rest of the squad to alert. The situation was escalating. Hux sighed.

"He has a point," Tico said, her tone clipped. She was watching him closely.

"I know he has a point," Hux said. "That is why I am not having him shot. I am not removing myself. I am not having _him_ removed. You may not believe it, but this is actually a concession." Hux turned to the trooper. "Sergeant, stand down." At the top of the ramp stood the breakfast squad, armed and ready. The staff sergeant between him and Threnalli stepped back, but still kept her body between him and the creature. It was more protective than was strictly called for. On the other hand, the thing had laid hands on him yesterday.

"We are here together," the alien said, his tone more reasonable. Maybe it was even what passed as pleading. "We must work together. We _should_ work together."

Hux felt he was showing admirable restraint by waiting until the thing was done speaking, before saying, "Be quiet." Of course, it immediately opened its mouth to protest. But Finn stopped it – grabbed its arm or nudged it. Something. The staff sergeant was between them and Hux didn't see.

"Sir?" Finn said in a steady voice.

Hux was tempted to tell him to shut it as well, but this was the unit commander addressing him more or less respectfully. "Yes?" he said through clenched teeth.

"Sir … with all due respect, you're trying to put the wrong battery pack in your blaster."

Hux blinked at him a couple times. He couldn't immediately place the idiom, but he could follow what it meant – he was going about the situation wrong. He looked to the alien and conceded further, "We will go slow. Your input is noted. In future, direct it to your commander, who can direct it to me if he judges it necessary."

"You will not speak with me?" Threnalli asked, offended.

"Obviously, I will speak with you. We are speaking now. Do you have any understanding of chain of command or is that a foreign concept for your kind?"

"My kind?" His mouth-tendrils inflated again.

"The Resistance!" Hux said.

"Oh." The alien calmed. "The chain of command is not relevant in these circumstances."

"It is even more relevant in an emergency like this."

"Then we disagree," Threnalli said soberly, as though they were equals discussing something inconsequential.

"The wrong battery pack indeed," Hux muttered. There was nothing necessarily wrong with the battery pack in this hypothetical situation. No amount of reprimanding the battery pack would make it function the way he wanted to. He had to either apply overwhelming pressure and rebuild it from scratch, or get the new and right one (which wasn't available – the Resistance and this section of troopers was all he had), or he could stop trying to make a square peg fit in a round hole and move on. "We disagree. The chain of command matters to me, if not to you. I will be angry with you when you disregard it. If you find that satisfactory, then we can move on."

"I do not."

Hux sighed once more. "Of course not," he muttered. He didn't know how much sleep he'd gotten the night before, but it wasn't enough for dealing with this nonsense.

The alien said, "Perhaps I should apologize for interrupting?"

That wasn't what Hux had expected. "Yes … you should. That is _exactly_ what you should do." And then stop interrupting, but that might be too much to ask.

"Then I apologize."

"Accepted." Hux looked to Finn, who was pressing his lips together to keep from smiling.

"Are you still angry?" Threnalli asked in what sounded like an honest attempt at being conciliatory.

Hux sighed again, less resigned and oddly, more relaxed this time. "I have been angry nearly every day of my life. But no, I am not angry at you at this moment." He felt tired, though – probably because he wasn't angry. That, and the lack of sleep.

"That is a good start," Threnalli said.

Hux resisted the impulse to roll his eyes and turned back to Commander Tico. "Tell me the rest of your new plan."


	48. Poe 3

[Poe]

* * *

Breakfast had been handed around to everyone as Hux was finishing talking to Rose. Initially, Poe stayed with their group as Rose filled people in on their roles. His was easy to understand. His attention wandered, as did his gaze. Hux was sitting alone again. Poe wondered if that was standard – did he always eat alone? Or was it that he didn't have anyone here of similar rank?

From what he'd read of the Resistance's thick file on the man, everyone hated Hux. He was like Tarkin with no respect. Which was bizarre because he was also mentioned as having supposedly eliminated his rivals (including his father) in gruesome ways that never had any firsthand corroboration. Hux was somehow simultaneously toothless and bloodthirsty, a mastermind widely reputed to be incompetent. He was nonetheless credited with Starkiller Base, the stormtrooper training program, most of the promotional efforts, while managing to fulfill duties as an army general at the same time. It made no sense.

Maybe he was just lousy at personal PR. At the moment, he was sitting on the thickest remaining section of the tree trunk, his meal bar half-eaten in one hand while with the other, he was picking at the fibrous structure of the exposed plant material. It was white like bone and covered with shallow serrations from whatever had eaten into it overnight. The whole thing had been reduced in girth by at least half what it had been before.

Hux wasn't entirely alone. One of the troopers stood guard over him – the one with the black pauldron with white barring. The staff sergeant. FL … Poe tried to remember. The mental trick he used was that she was Flinn instead of Finn. A bunch of the other ones were also Finns (FNs), though he couldn't tell which ones. Her shoulder pauldron made her distinctive. The next part of her designation was a two, sort of like Flight – FL with a t sound. Two twos (as 'Flinn' had two n's). And another round number: sixteen. FL-2216?

FL … He remembered the first sergeant telling her 'Flag, you're up.' He'd thought at the time she meant something like, 'I'm passing you the flag' or 'tag, you're it'. But now that he thought about it, FLag. Their names meant things, the same as his name told about his family. According to them, it told them he had parents. Which was far from the default assumption for these guys. Huh.

As he approached, she turned her head in his direction, then away with a slight angling of her shoulders. It was different from how she'd been with the others – deliberately interposed with C'ai and sharply attentive, close at hand, when Hux had talked with Rose. She ignored Poe more thoroughly than she would have one of her own. It was a big change from the one who had grabbed him the night before, jabbing the blaster muzzle into his side so hard it was still bruised.

Hux looked up at him, as placid as Poe had yet seen him. Poe asked, "Can I join you?" He lifted his meal bar to show his intention to eat with him.

"Yes." Hux nodded and gestured next to him on the trunk.

Poe settled in. He took a bite. Hux took one as well. He was most of the way done. He'd been served first and taken a small bite while the stormtroopers had stood around watching him, holding the bars they had yet to distribute. "That thing you guys did earlier," Poe said, gesturing at Hux's meal bar, "was that … what was that?"

"What thing?"

"You eating first? Is that to show it's not poisoned?"

Hux chuckled. "No. It's a … tradition. The highest ranked person eats first in any gathering."

"Oh. Why's that?" He had his suspicions that it was to allow whoever was in charge to have first and best choice of everything, but he kept his tone innocent.

"Well. You could say that those lower ranked are showing their respect for authority and their personal discipline by waiting."

"Yeah, I guess so."

Hux fiddled with the last bit of his bar. It was a mealy substance, soft and chewy without much texture. Poe found it edible and a bit over-rich. That was about it. Hux said, "You could also say it's just a simple means to show your power over others and reinforce conditioning."

Poe had just taken a bite, so he couldn't respond. Hux continued after a pause, his voice quiet and steady, somewhat introspective like he was seeing what he was telling about. "My father used it as a tool for his students. Several hundred cadets, twelve or thirteen years of age, all gathered in the great hall of Grafson for breakfast. Meals were laid out: steaming eggs, salted meat, toasted breads, soft-dried fruits. He ate. He gave no signal for his cadets to do so.

"So they sat at their places and waited. When he was done with his own meal, he dismissed them. They – we – had our duties for the day, exercises and drills, more grueling than most. At lunch, the same thing. He ate. No one else was permitted. Same for dinner. Food prepared and set out, then discarded entire. And the next morning at breakfast. That was when the first two broke – one openly and another who was caught filching. A few others later boasted of bits they'd managed to steal unseen, but they weren't punished as those two were.

"Same for lunch. Finally dinner. After two days of rigorous physical training and no food, some were swaying in their seats. It saps a person surprisingly fast when you're required to work while fasting. He allowed all to eat, but a few minutes later he dismissed us, well before anyone had managed to bolt more than a few mouthfuls. Those who didn't leave immediately as ordered learned to regret it." Hux considered the last bit of his bar before eating it.

"What good did that do?" Poe asked, he tried to keep his voice flat and not emote too strongly. Hux's tone, too, was factual and distant, making it tough to tell what the man wanted Poe to take from this.

Hux glanced at him with a slightly arched brow, probably for his tone. Hux brushed non-existent crumbs from his fingers. "He told me. 'You require people to willingly participate in their own subordination. You teach them that _they_ are the ones who have allowed you to rule them. They will eat, sleep, and pull the trigger at your command, no matter how much they might wish to do otherwise. This is power over people.'"

Poe blanched at the last third of his meal bar. "That's abuse. Not power."

Hux shrugged one shoulder. "It's both. It works."

"For what?"

"Instilling loyalty. And dread. After he did it the first time, he would require us to skip a meal from time to time. We never knew if that was the start of days without sustenance or just the one time. The uncertainty dulls the mind. You know you can't predict or control the decision to starve you and yet you have given up your autonomy to them under the illusion of serving a greater need."

"What need is that?"

"Advancing the First Order."

Poe chewed his lips. Quietly, he said, "Do you believe that?"

"I believe it works."

Poe softened his voice. "Do _you_ believe it?"

"I don't understand the question."

"Do you believe it's a good idea to take away people's freedom and brainwash them into a loyalty and obedience they would have never agreed to if they had a choice?"

"I believe it works and we're at war."

Poe gave a disappointed sigh. He'd thought Hux was going somewhere with this, given that he wouldn't outright answer the question. He certainly had no trouble being unequivocal when he wanted to, so why the hesitancy now? Why had he even told that story?

Hux sighed as well. He said, "The traitor there is not the first or the only one to have broken his conditioning, but it is exceedingly rare." Poe looked over at him attentively. Hux added, "My father's dead now. Did you know that?"

"I'd … read that. Yeah." He wasn't sure where Hux was going with the subject change, but Poe was listening. He had the feeling, again, that Hux was trying to tell him something. Poe had also read the report from Vi Moradi that Armitage had arranged the murder himself. Which suddenly connected with Hux's use of 'we' and 'our' in the story, and the point about Finn not having been the first to break out. "Oh," he said in realization. "You mean you."

_Hux_ – Armitage – had broken his conditioning somewhere along the line and killed his father for it. But then what? What did it mean?

Hux didn't react to Poe's statement. "It's a tradition now. And a harmless one. I won't change it." He gestured. "You've seen these troopers. You've seen Finn. They are well-fed. They have no dread they will go without. Though they probably should. We'll be out of food tomorrow."

"You are an intensely strange fellow," Poe said. What it meant was Hux _had_ changed some things. Maybe not a lot, but how much could you change in an organization as tyrannical as the First Order, if you weren't the one in charge?

"Is that a problem?"

Poe popped the last of his meal bar in his mouth and put his newly empty hand on Hux's knee, right out in the open in front of everyone. He'd done it the night before, but no one had been looking at them then. Hux pulled in a breath and stiffened. There was a faint creak of armor behind them as the stormtrooper shifted. Poe squeezed lightly, then released, leaving his hand resting there casually. "No. It's not a problem."

Hux swallowed noisily and began breathing again. Poe was watching him enough to see that this was the moment Hux licked the corners of his mouth, as though checking for crumbs. He was definitely redder. Poe squeezed again and rubbed twice in small motions before taking his hand back. Hux swayed toward him before catching himself and turning away.

"Well," Poe said, "looks like most people are done. We should probably get started on getting the repulsors out."

"Yes, you're right," Hux said, pulling himself together. "I have a few announcements I need to make first." He stood, brushing the wrinkles from his clothing.


	49. Finn 4

[Finn]

* * *

"What are you _doing_?" Finn said in a forced whisper as he sidled up to Poe. Poe had the quadnoculars from the survival kit held to his eyes, scanning in the direction they'd be heading. There was only the one set of tools and Rose, Rey, and Chewbacca were handling the disassembly. It left the rest of them at ease for the moment.

Poe didn't answer. "Last night," Finn said, staying quiet because he knew how good the pickup was on trooper helmets. "Sleeping over there. Kaydel said you stood watch together, alone in that forward compartment. It's soundproof. I know. Ask me how I know." Poe gave him a smirking side-eye. Finn asked again, "What _were_ you doing?"

Poe put the quadnocs back to his eyes, though Finn doubted there was anything interesting to see through them. The land was basically flat and the trees dense enough to limit visibility at the range he was looking. Poe said, "What's it look like I'm doing?"

"I don't know. I literally don't know, Poe. That's why I'm asking."

"I'm trying to get in the guy's pants."

Finn gaped at how brazen Poe was. "That is a First Order general," he said, emphasizing each word as much as he dared.

Poe laughed a little and lowered the quadnocs, his mouth hanging open briefly in delight. His brows went up and he nodded a couple times. "I _know_."

"Truce or not, he's the _enemy_!"

Poe shrugged dismissively. "Why, because he's in the First Order? You were in them. Come to think of it," Poe cocked his head, "I might be in one eventually, too."

Finn blinked at him blankly for a moment as he didn't get the joke, then his face pinched up in a combination of disgust and humor as he did. He covered his mouth slowly as his eyes watered. Poe patted him on the shoulder. "It'll be okay, Finn. I know my way around a cockpit." In a lower voice, he leaned in and added, "He needs a friend. Now more than ever. We will lose this war if it comes down to him alone – if it comes down to anyone, alone. You know that. Think about what that means, Finn."

Finn sobered. "But that doesn't mean you have to do this. You don't … have to."

Poe smiled again, slyly. "Oh, trust me, buddy, I'm not doing this _entirely_ out of a sense of duty."


	50. The Old Man 2

[The Old Man]

* * *

H-482 wasn't sure how he'd managed to get nominated for this shit. And that's what it was: shit. That wasn't a word you were allowed to use in the First Order (at least not where anyone could hear you, which was just about everywhere), but it was definitely a word he could think. He knew all the real curse words and thought them frequently. His unit getting assigned escort duty for the Rebels? That was shit.

If CL-0745 was going to send someone out to babysit the assholes, it should have been the FN squad. They were experienced. They worked well together. They knew each other. They weren't a bunch of misfits masquerading as proper stormtroopers.

But that was really uncharitable. He trusted Ten-ten, even though he'd only known him for a week or so. And … well. That was it. His other squad members included DL-8192, Donner, who thought she was a badass, talked about how good she was way too much, and (as he'd read in her file) consistently scored middling in the sims, usually not even above average. At least she wasn't bottom of the barrel, but her boasting when she clearly couldn't back it up bothered the hell out of him.

Then he had DL-1364, who despite what the Lady said ('Lady' being the name CL-0745 had picked out for herself, thinking it was an actual fancy woman's name instead of a title – he hadn't had the heart to explain non-Order status systems to her and besides, it really didn't matter), DL-1364 needed to be sent for a few more rounds of reconditioning. She needed every bit of poison scrubbed out of her brain so she could start fresh. Instead, it was all in there festering. He knew a thing or two about letting the darkness eat you alive. All this coddling wasn't good for her, but he'd been ordered to go easy on her.

Then he had FO-1282, whom he hardly knew. Most would hold her bloodline against her. He didn't. He didn't hold anything against her except that she was a stranger and he didn't trust her yet. She was the only survivor of her unit. Was that because she'd been lagging behind or got separated? She claimed no, but how was he to know? He was suspicious of everyone until proven otherwise.

"Hold back," H-482 ordered his group. "Let them go first."

CL-0745 cut in immediately. "Corporal, do a proper escort formation." Her tone was brisk and no-nonsense as always. There was no explanation and he didn't need one. While he might be personally overjoyed if the Rebels were eaten by something or swallowed up by a sinkhole, he understood the mission would be pointless if the faithless jerks died without retrieving the wing and repairing the shuttle. They were the ones who had crashed it in the first place.

"Ten-ten, you're on point. Donner to the left. DL-1364," she used to be called Tracer, but had rejected the name after her comrades had died, morbidly saying the name had died with them, "to the right. FO-1282 and I will bring up the rear." CL-0745 had had a few things to say about his guard deployments the night before. She had a point. This way he'd keep an eye on the newest person while having everyone else ahead of him in his field of view. And field of fire. Not that he intended to shoot any of the Rebels. But hey. Maybe. The day was young.

General Hux had announced they were now at a truce condition with the stupid Rebels. While that was definitely his prerogative as general, H-482 was free to dislike it as long as he did his duty and kept his thoughts to himself. Hux had also announced the bit about the food supply, which H-482 had stumbled over when doing the inventory. Obviously, it wasn't a big secret – anyone with two brain cells to rub together would figure it out – but it was nice to have it out in the open.

When he'd done inventory, he'd double-checked with CL-0745 that yes, the general was aware of the food situation, because it seemed preposterous that they were sitting around sharing breakfast with the Rebels when they had such limited supplies. Again, he supposed, general's prerogative. But that pilot putting his hand on the general's knee had unsettled him.

Best not to dwell on it. Same for their behavior the night before, or being woke up for his watch to find the general and pilot had been *ahem* standing watch before him. The hand on the knee bothered him more than whatever they got up to in private. Precisely because the knee thing wasn't private, which made it hard to ignore.

In the middle of his escort formation walked the Rebel scum, or at least some of them. The engineer Commander Tico, the traitor Finn, the Wookiee Chewbacca, the Abednedo what's-his-name, and the pilot, Commander Dameron. Five of them. Five of the First Order. That left just three of the Rebels back at the shuttle along with all five of FN squad, the staff sergeant, the first sergeant, and the general.

Among those three left behind were the former supreme leader and the last Jedi, Rey. Assuming she was a Jedi. The last real Jedi had died or disappeared two or three decades before H-482 was even born (the Skywalker stories were fake; everyone knew that). The idea that this Rey person was one seemed far-fetched, but he couldn't deny that something very strange had happened to them while escaping from the _Finalizer_, and it seemed to have been coming from her. Her and Kylo Ren were going to stay back and do Jedi stuff while the rest of them did real work.

Ahead of him hummed and whined the repulsor-lift that came standard with the shuttle. It was designed to be dual-use, for moving light personal cargo or to act as a gurney in case of accident or incapacitation. It could float a person, even a big one like the bulky Abednedo. At the moment, it was laboring. The Rebels had piled it up with four repulsor plates they'd taken from the underside of the shuttle, batteries to power them, cables and controllers, and tools. He'd added a little food and less water than he thought they needed so no one was carrying extra gear. The lift barely cleared the forest floor and frequently made distressed beeps about the weight.

Otherwise, the walk was fine. The temperature was moderate during the day, though the air was more humid than he'd like. There was no precipitation today and the wind they could hear stirring the upper branches didn't penetrate to the ground. Other than the wind, the place was eerily quiet, just as it had been the night before. He didn't like that. Especially when they'd come outside in the morning to find something had devoured – literally devoured – the top several centimeters of that tree trunk they'd cut down. He'd noticed several of the trees nearby were also scoured along with the cut stump – anywhere they'd been damaged, something had eaten part of them.

Now maybe you could tell yourself that was plant material and plant-eaters weren't a threat, but H-482 knew that where there were plant-eaters, meat-eaters weren't far behind. The fact that he didn't see or hear either of them around was doubly unsettling. He looked up a few times, noticing the back side of the trees – which would be the side the shuttle had struck as it crashed – were deeply scarred and in many places eaten to the white, fibrous bone-like interior just like the one next to their shuttle.

He stopped next to one to look at it. FO-1282 stopped with him. He prodded at the edge of the scarred area with the tip of his blaster. It looked soft. It yielded, like puffy, swollen flesh, like infected tissue. "It's like skin." The undamaged trunks were fuzzy, hairy, perhaps. This one had all the fuzz matted down, from the ground up to the scar. Like those bugs they'd found had climbed up it and chewed away all the damaged tissue. "This thing … isn't really a plant."

"Is that important?" FO-1282 asked. Chewbacca and Dameron had stopped to watch them, but were likely too far away to hear unless Wookiee hearing was better than most.

H-482 said, "Might be. Maybe those bugs aren't plant-eaters." He turned and gestured for them to rejoin the group. All of them had stopped by now.

"Everything okay?" Dameron asked.

H-482 looked over at Finn, who was the person he was supposed to talk to. Finn didn't say anything. H-482 had spent half his life outside the Order and the formative half to boot, so he turned back to Dameron and answered. "We need to increase our speed. We don't want to be out here after dark."

"The wing can't be far. What'd you see?" Dameron looked past him at the tree he'd been examining, then looked to some of the closer ones.

"Move!" H-482 said sternly, not interested in explaining, especially when he wasn't sure if it was really something to be worried about. He was not possessed of the usual First Order disgust and phobia toward things with shells and exoskeletons (it was common enough to be default), but he still didn't want to be eaten by them.

Dameron rolled his eyes. "Are you that same guy who stabbed me with your blaster muzzle last night?"

H-482 couldn't help the startled, "What?" that came out of his mouth. It was a level of innuendo that would have escaped most Order personnel. But H-482 had been married, fathered two kids, and worked odd jobs in some of the roughest, grossest parts of space. The only person he'd recently envisioned euphemistically 'stabbing Dameron with a blaster muzzle last night' was General Hux.

"Right here." Dameron pointed at his side.

"Oh." H-482 straightened in realization. "Yeah, that was me." He wobbled his head in the stormtrooper equivalent of an eye-roll in response. Of course, Dameron hadn't meant anything by it. Maybe they'd just been talking about the stars like when they were outside.

Dameron blinked at him. "What did you- oh." Then he laughed. "Wow, do you have a dirty mind! Where did _that_ come from?"

"We need to move!" Angry now, he pointed his blaster, which meant three of the other troopers did the same, two pointed at Dameron with TN-1017 covering the lot of them. DL-1364 was just standing there, not joining in. The Rebels made dismayed noises about the truce.

But not Dameron. Still laughing, he put his hands up cooperatively. "Okay, okay." He turned and started walking. "This good? This what you want?"

"Yes."

"You like the view?" Dameron teased as he glanced over his shoulder. He was still holding his hands up. The rest of the Rebels were moving now, too. "Is that it?"

H-482 groaned. Great. He had a joker on his hands. "You're not my type."

"Yeah? Who is your type?" Dameron put his hands down slowly. The entire group was moving now, troopers, Rebels, and the whining repulsor-lift (it was not making a good sound).

H-482 took his blaster back to ready position and with his free hand waved the rest of his squad to do the same. "None of _you_."

"Ah. Something exotic then? That must be rough. The First Order doesn't offer much variety."

H-482 made a scoffing noise. "_Human women_. Not even picky about the human part. Human_oid_ is fine. But women. Not _you_."

"Yeah, yeah, I got that. But how does that work? I thought most of you guys didn't have types."

"What would you know about it?"

Dameron shrugged. "I talk to people." He'd moved off to the side a little and drifted back in the formation. H-482 wanted to complain that he needed to stay with the group, but Dameron was doing it to better talk to him. It was a weird conversation, but as long as the asshole kept moving, that was good enough.

"I'm not interested in anyone now." Lest the scum think that was due to the quality of possible partners, he added, "I lost my wife twenty-five years ago." That he hadn't felt desire since then didn't strike him as unusual. It was just a testament to his attachment to her.

"Oh." The amusement left Dameron's face. "I'm sorry to hear that. What happened?"

"She … there were complications after the birth of our son. We were in the Outer Rim, where they charge credits for medical care. We didn't have much money, so we didn't go until it was too late. She died."

"I am _really_ sorry to hear that," Dameron said soberly. "They charge credits some places for helping with childbirth?"

H-482 wanted to be offended that Dameron acted like that was criminal, but the thing was, on any civilized planet it was. "I said it was the Outer Rim. It's lawless out there. New Republic can't enforce order anywhere but on their own doorstep. Never could."

"Huh. Well, is your son alright?"

H-482 scoffed again. He raised his blaster one-handed as though showing it to the Rebel, muzzle pointed skyward. "Why do you think I'm here?"

"Uh … I don't know. You tell me."

"I had a daughter, too. After my wife died, I had a toddler and a newborn, and no money at all. I was ex-imp, for all that I only served the Empire for a couple months and spent all of that on a transfer station watching them consolidate cargo. I never saw action. I barely saw civilians! But any imperial who was still in service at the end was a war criminal no matter what you'd done. I could have got out of it if my family would vouch for me, but they didn't want the stain of admitting one of their kids had ended up in the Empire and never defected."

He huffed. There was a lot of territory between that betrayal and Bes' death, but he skipped it. "I joined the First Order because they would raise my children and they did. They honored every promise they made to me, which is more than the Empire or the New Republic ever did." The vocoder filtered out most of the sneer from his voice, but not all of it.

"Oh. Okay." Despite H-482's tone, Dameron continued to act unoffended, though his voice had become a bit flatter. "Are your kids good? They're not here, right?" Dameron gestured at the troopers walking with them. All but Ten-ten were younger than his children would have been if they'd lived.

"No. Both died in the Sibensko Massacre when your General Organa sabotaged the station and drowned thousands in their beds."

Dameron's mouth dropped open, but he was momentarily at a loss for words. He looked over at Finn and sputtered, "General Organa? I remember hearing something about Sibensko …?"

Finn nodded and matter-of-factly confirmed, "It happened. Just like what he said. It was a big setback. Caused a major change in strategy. Big shake-up. Snoke ended up in control. They started building Starkiller Base, like, months after that."

Dameron was disbelieving, which was heartening to see. "She … she did what? What happened on Sibensko?"

Finn said, "It was underwater. She depressurized the entire facility. It flooded and collapsed. Killed everyone."

Still astonished, Poe said, "So they shifted to building a superweapon that would destroy entire planets? The Hosnian Cataclysm was revenge for …?"

Finn gave Poe an expressive look that said basically, 'Yeah, of course.' The former stormtrooper looked over to H-482. "They must have been, what, they were Amaxine Warriors?"

"Yes," H-482 said proudly. "It was a great honor for them to be chosen for that mission out of so many other volunteers. They both trained for it relentlessly."

Finn nodded, grimaced, and went back to marching. It was useful, H-482 noticed, to have someone with Order background among the Resistance. Finn understood history and the Resistance believed him when he spoke, rather than wanting to argue about things that were clearly cause-and-effect.

Chewbacca warbled something in his language. Dameron muttered, "Yeah, you said it."

H-482 recognized that the vocal register wasn't the confrontational/offensive/challenging one. He probably could have told more if he'd so much as heard the Wookiee's language in the last twenty years. He gestured at the alien with an elbow instead of his blaster, which was the less rude way of indicating something as far as stormtroopers were concerned. "What did he say?"

Dameron answered, "He said war makes … uh, refugees of us all. Really, though, I think the term is un-tribed or lost family, orphans maybe, but I don't know enough Shyriiwook to say for sure."

H-482 grunted. "Shy-er-wook?"

"Shyriiwook. It's their language."

"I heard it was called Wookieespeak."

Dameron blinked a few times and looked thoughtful, like he'd never heard that word before, or like he'd heard it somewhere and was trying to place it. Chewbacca asked a wary question. Dameron translated it. "He wants to know where you heard it called that." The man used a neutral voice that made the question sound normal, when H-482 had heard perfectly well it wasn't.

"A …" H-482 trailed off as he looked at the Wookiee, realizing what the rest of the answer contained – and the reputation of Wookiees for berserk rages. Wookiees lived long enough that this one may well have been personally involved. He shifted his stance and the grip on his blaster.

"We okay?" Dameron asked, clueing to the shift (or maybe he'd understood the Wookiee's tone just fine). His light question still had every one of the Rebels looking over at him, which meant the troopers were looking, too. Even DL-1364 this time.

Defensively, H-482 said, "There weren't any slaves where I was stationed with the Empire. Not Wookiee ones. Not _any_ ones." He paused. Chewbacca whuffed a neutral acknowledgement that was basic enough that H-482 understood it. H-482 went on, "I learned it from a Dowutin who claimed she'd been a slave-handler. If she was using a slur-word for it, I didn't know that. I'll call it … Shrywook from now on."

The Wookiee gave a mournful moan and chirp-type bark, then turned away. It defused H-482's concern that he might get attacked for incidental association with a slaver decades ago.

"That's really big of you," Dameron said with an approving nod that managed not to be condescending. "It's, uh, Shyriiwook."

"Shy-ree-wook?"

"Yeah, that's pretty close, but it's hard to tell with all the apparatus. You guys and your helmets." Dameron shook his head and patiently tried again. "Shyriiwook."

"Shy-rii-wook."

"Yeah, that's right. You got it!"

H-482 caught himself, realizing he was enjoying validation from some Rebel scum. Also, he'd actually learned something from one. He took the opportunity to change the subject. "If there's to be any chance we're not stuck out here overnight, we need to double-time it."

Dameron cast a dubious look at the sky, then ahead. "I don't know why we're not seeing the thing already. I know we skimmed for a long time, but …" He shrugged. "Come on guys, let's see what we can do about increasing the pace."


	51. Hux 14

[Hux]

* * *

Hux stopped at the top of the ramp as the first sergeant and staff sergeant continued down it. He watched to make sure they went far enough that their audio pickups wouldn't read the conversation he was going to have. Then he turned back.

The door to the forward compartment was shut. There was one stormtrooper on sensor duty and overwatch in there, also available as relief for the four on perimeter duty. It meant his people were all accounted for and elsewhere. Lt. Connix was in the shower, taking advantage of the lull to clean up. The stormtroopers would be cycling through for the same thing as the day went on.

To the side of the main compartment of the shuttle, Rey and Ren had set up the two sleeping mats. They sat opposite, facing one another, legs crossed. Between them they had placed an object. It was a pyramid about the size of two fists, black on the edges with dull green crystalline faces.

Ren and Rey waited. Hux watched them. Finally, Ren looked over his shoulder and asked, "Are you leaving?"

"No." Hux walked closer. "What is that?"

"A datacron," Ren said with obvious reluctance.

"It _looks like_ a Sith holocron," Hux said, moving to the edge of the mats.

"You recognize such a thing?"

"Of course, I do. You stole that from my quarters."

"It was Snoke's, not yours."

"And he stole it from someone else. I know." Hux positioned himself at the join of the sleeping mats and lowered himself to the hard floor. He sat cross-legged as they did. He noticed this put him at an apex of the triangular base of the pyramid, so that now, he, Ren, and Rey were at the three points of it. "My father had me study what information he had of the Jedi and the Sith, particularly their training methods, with the idea that we would use it to refine training for the troops. Now in retrospect, I have to wonder if there were other reasons." He extended his hand. "May I touch it?"

"No," Ren said automatically. Hux paused with his hand extended, then decided to see what happened when he disregarded Ren's command. He continued. Ren grabbed him when his fingers were less than a centimeter from the thing, jerking his hand away. Ren said, "I said no."

"I am aware." As he was also aware he wasn't being choked or assaulted. Ren wasn't even squeezing his wrist. It was still a firm grip, but not painful. "I am in command of this expedition," Hux warned him.

Ren released him, pushing his hand away from the device. "So you think. You're in command of your troopers. The Resistance obeys because it is convenient. I don't obey you at all. You owe me a life debt."

Hux withdrew his hand with a sullen expression for the mention of the debt. "In what way do you plan to collect on that? You know the First Order prohibits recognizing them."

"But _you_ recognize it."

"I'm not even sure it's to you." Hux grimaced. This stupid feeling of muddled obligation was precisely why the Order, in its wisdom, forbid the damn things. "Why didn't the two of you just let me die? It would have solved all your problems." And his own.

Ren gave a dry chuckle. "You wouldn't have died. Our problems would not have been solved. What I have seen will come to pass. We can only change how we respond to it. I, too, have been the subject of visions that led people to cast me away." He shook his head. "That made me easier to convince to save you than I might have been otherwise."

"A life debt is singular in application," Hux pointed out. "I can't honor it to either of you until I get a clear answer on who it is to."

Ren shrugged, which was no help. Hux suspected strongly, and especially based on the last time Ren had saved his life and pretended not to, that Ren would leave the situation exactly there: undefined and impossible for Hux to rectify. It was an annoying form of generosity, but generosity all the same. Hux changed the subject. "What information does this holocron purportedly contain?"

"It's none of your business."

"The hells it's not! Poe told me. It is _entirely_ my business."

Ren said, "Snoke knew how to … build a bridge between people. Possession is like … walking across that bridge."

Rey was looking straight at Ren as she added, "And then stabbing the other person in the heart and throwing them off it."

"Possession?" Hux asked, but the two ignored him. There was some interplay between Ren and Rey at that point, an exchange of expressions – wounded, angry, and resentful on both sides. Unsettled business. But Hux doubted any of it concerned him. "Well, get on with it, then."

Ren gave him a sour look. "Such meditations are best done in private."

"Meditations? You're just going to activate it and read the information, right?"

"Activating it requires the Force," Rey said. Ren shot her a warning look that Hux misinterpreted.

"Have you ever seen one activated?" Ren asked, turning to him with a wondering expression on his face.

"Do I have the Force? Is that what you're asking?"

"Everyone has the Force," Rey said.

Hux snorted. "That's like saying everyone has oxygen. It does no good to the dead. If everyone could use the Force, we'd need no distinction between creatures like Snoke, Palpatine, and yourselves, and the rest of us."

She gave him a look that was caught between amused, incredulous, and offended. Ren was only amused. He told Rey, "He's always like that." He turned to Hux. "We need privacy. This is a delicate process, assuming we can get it to work at all. These items were attuned to Snoke and not to us. There is a difference, you know."

"He's dead and you're not. That's the main one." But Hux rose to his feet. "If you think there's some other, then you're fooling yourself."

Rey said, "We aren't the same as him."

"Prove it," Hux said, standing over them.

"We're trying to cooperate with you here," Rey said.

"That's because you need me."

"No." She shook her head. "We don't."

He frowned at her.

Ren said, "Sidious needs you. We don't."

Rey said, "We _want_ you with us."

"On your side?"

She drew in breath, then paused to consider her words. She glanced between him and Ren, then said, "No more sides." A hint of a smile touched her lips. "Let the past die. Make something new."

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Was that bait, or just an idea she was offering? He looked between them. "Did he kill Snoke or did you?"

"Does it matter?" she asked.

"I want to know who I'm grateful to."

She looked to Ren, then back to Hux. She didn't reply.

Hux said finally, "A straight answer would go a long way toward building trust."

Very quietly, Ren said, "I did. But only because she was there. Now leave."

"Thank you," Hux said, equally quietly. He turned on his heel and left them alone for their 'meditations'.


	52. Rey 9

[Rey]

* * *

Rey inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly as General Hux left.

Once the man had left the shuttle entirely, Kylo said, "So. You've changed your mind."

"What?"

"'Let the past die'? No more sides?"

She slumped a little. "Not exactly."

She expected him to be disappointed or angry. Instead, he just said, "Tell me."

She tried to find the right words, but it felt like they were eluding her. She said something else, starting further back. "The First Order has a bad reputation on Jakku. Most of the reason why happened before I was born, but I still heard about it. I've heard about it all my life. They came back a year or two after the war – after scavengers had moved in and staked claims – and they took whatever they wanted, at gunpoint if necessary.

"They lifted entire ships out of the sand – the smaller ones, that is. They took salvaged components and when they paid for them at all, it wasn't much." She sighed. "They also bought children. They recruited the best workers – mechanics and restorers who'd come to set up shop. They even disappeared with bush pilots and cargo crew. There were rumors that not everyone went with them willingly, that they were abducted and pressed into service."

She swallowed. Kylo was listening attentively. She went on, "They kept coming, I'm told, every year or two until … I was young. For a long time, I told myself that was one of their ships I saw leaving with my parents on it." She studied Kylo's face, but he didn't speak.

They both knew the truth – her parents had sold her to Unkar Plutt. Plutt had been unable to resell her to the Order. Upon his return to attempt to get his money back, he'd found them drunk. She was locked outside while they argued. They died. She belonged to Plutt after that. It was a sordid past that could have belonged to any sad orphan, just another indirect victim of the galaxy's ongoing strife.

"That's … not really what happened, though. The First Order didn't take them." Her eyes watered. He leaned forward and reached out to touch her knee. "No, it's alright." She sniffed and wiped at her eyes. "It's … that was a long time ago."

"Not to you."

She sighed. "I know. And … I'll come to terms with it myself. But the point of all this is that I grew up hating the First Order. I blamed them for many things and everyone around me agreed. They were evil. They were opportunists. They were thieves, kidnappers, lawless … I don't even know the words in Basic." Most of them were curses anyway. "When I heard about the Resistance, about Luke Skywalker … I still wanted to wait for my parents, but I agreed with their mission – to destroy … all of this."

She gestured around at the shuttle. Kaydel came out of the back compartment, her hair wrapped up in a towel folded like a turban. She was dressed, still in the First Order disguise which was her only set of clothes. She looked between the two of them for a moment. Rey looked down pointedly, also, to conceal any sign of tears on her face. Kaydel headed outside. Soon thereafter, one of the stormtroopers came in and disappeared in the rear compartment for their own shower, never bothering to look their way.

"I hope there are enough towels," Rey said.

"There should be two," Kylo said.

Rey nodded. "When you asked me to join you in the First Order … I didn't want to. I wasn't going to." She waited for him to ask again if she'd changed her mind. He didn't. She breathed out heavily. "Then … when you came with Lando … you said … you said I wanted to use you. And you weren't wrong."

She chewed her lip, eyes watering again. "I wanted to use you against the First Order." She shook her head despondently. "The same as your mother did. Then we had the vision and everything has been busy since then and now we're here." She paused for a long moment. "I'm … meeting these people in the First Order. They aren't evil. I've known evil people. I belonged to Plutt for years. These people are … strict. But you were one of them."

"I was." Speaking slowly, Kylo added, "You know those ships they were recovering from Jakku were theirs."

"They were not!" she said crossly. "Scavenger's code! They'd been abandoned. People had claims."

He gave her a level look with only the barest hint of the smile he was suppressing. "Okay."

"Fine, they were theirs to start with." She rolled her eyes. "I'm just saying that I'm seeing a different point of view. I haven't changed my mind … exactly."

"Okay," he agreed again, with much the same expression.


	53. Leia 2

[Leia]

* * *

_Luke. Hear me. Luke_, she thought insistently. When there was no answer, Leia tried to settle her emotions. She tried to come back to that sense of peace and purpose that was the last thing she'd known of her brother when he lived in this world. Even that, she wasn't sure how real it was. Probably just wishful thinking. Well, Rey had felt it, too, so it had to be something. And Luke had come to her once since then, so she knew he could. _Luke._

"Leia."

Finally. "Luke!"

"I'm here."

He looked disappointed, though. Like he already knew why she was calling him and he disapproved. Maybe that, too, was just wishful thinking.

"Luke. They've been gone nearly an entire cycle. Tell me – are they alright? Are they alive?" She didn't bother to say who. He should know. She'd barely seen her son in the flesh before he was gone again, taking with him much of her command staff and Rey.

There was the disappointment again. "Leia, this isn't how the Force works. You can't just call me to use it for you."

"Then what good is it?"

"You have to use it yourself. Find the Force within _yourself_."

"We've been through this before," she said warningly. And they had, years ago. Decades, now. She'd declined his offer of Jedi training, too busy being pregnant and trying to put the galaxy back together after the war. Both were more important than any spiritual enlightenment. Neither reminded her of the cold press of Darth Vader's mind intruding into hers, trying to yank the location of the Rebel base from her and so implicate her family and destroy everything they were working toward.

But Luke was as stubborn as she. "What do your feelings tell you?"

"My feelings tell me it's been nearly a full cycle since they checked in and I'm worried! Are they alright? It's a simple question."

He took a seat. Or his ghostly form appeared to. He looked engaged now. "Reach beyond that. What do you sense?"

"Why can't you just tell me? If what you said is true, you're even closer in the Force now than you were when you were alive."

"I am. That's how I know – this isn't how you're supposed to do it. It's time for you to take your own journey."

"Like I haven't been taking it all my life? That's rich."

He frowned. "You already know the answer. It _is_ within you. You have this power. You always have."

"Luke, I have sent people into combat and on missions expecting they would come back. Expecting they would _win_. Every time I hoped they would. Not all of them did. I have held out hope," her voice turned even more earnest, "for you. For Ben. That you would both come back to me. You're dead. And he's gone. Is that the answer you're not willing to tell me?"

"The Jedi are not supposed to interfere. We're supposed to eschew attachments-"

"You're not a Jedi now. You're a ghost. _You're my brother_." 'Eschew attachments' her ass. "Aren't you _finally_ past those limits now?"

He sighed. "There are … a thousand generations with me now, of Jedi, of others in the Force. I carry their mantel, just like you carry that of Alderaan." He gave her a single nod in acknowledgment of the pang that somber mention caused her. "It is your legacy to honor and pass on, just as the Jedi are mine. I can't betray their principles anymore than you can those of Alderaan. Look into your heart and tell me: does your son live?"

She sighed and finally – finally – turned her attention inward as he directed. There was something there that told her Ben wasn't done. He wasn't part of the Force. But then again, he just wasn't … out there. "I don't know!" she said, exasperated and worried. "I don't feel anything! It's like when I reached out to you after the temple burned and you went missing. I couldn't … find you. You couldn't hear me."

He made a slight nod, looking hopeful, as if she had the answer and he was breathlessly waiting for her to realize it.

"All I can think about," she told him, "is how frustrated I was all those years, that you left me. You left us, but you left _me_. And I know what you've done, or what you nearly did, so I know why you left. But you didn't have to stay away. You made it worse. You didn't just turn on Ben. You turned on _me!_"

He drew back, guarded again.

She went on, "If I had known, Luke, we could have done something about it!"

"You couldn't have done something about what I had already done. Or … about that expression on Ben's face that night. I couldn't … I couldn't live with myself. There were times I considered ending it. I would dress in my formal robes, go to one of the cliffs, and try to find the meaning in my life, a reason to stay alive."

"You're an idiot, Luke. You could have come back. You _should_ have come back."

He sighed. "You're probably right."

"I know I'm right. _I needed you_. And I need you now."

"No," he said quietly. "You don't. You need your son. He needs you. Neither of you can truly move on until you both understand that and deal with it."

"I know I need him …" she said defensively, giving her head a little shake.

Luke raised a knowing brow at her. "And not for the Resistance," he said in the tone of someone who had no love left for political movements of any stripe.

She pressed her lips together and thought about Lando's words that Ben needed his mother. She thought about Rey's – clumsier and awkward – but still expressing that she, Leia, needed Ben. In his few days here, she'd barely talked with Ben and never alone, trying to minimize the chance of reopening old wounds. Or making new ones.

She let her thoughts wander further. She remembered the feel when Ben had fallen to the dark side and the wounded sorrow from him when Han had died. She remembered the moment outside the _Raddus_ when he'd faltered and his fear when the torpedoes streaked by him. She'd known that wasn't him. He had all the reason in the galaxy to fire on her, yet she'd felt his anguish when the decision was made for him.

He had feelings for her. She'd felt them, too. Fear and longing and love and shame. She didn't feel any of those now. There was no reason why they would have ended. And if he wasn't dead … "He's concealing himself somehow." She raised her eyes to Luke. "From Sidious?"

Luke nodded slightly, the corners of his lips curling under his beard.

"Then he's alive." And Sidious didn't have him. "Are they all alive?"

Luke made a face, like he wasn't supposed to tell her. But he did anyway. "Yes."

"Thank you."

He nodded and stood. "This is normally where I'd say 'Trust in the Force'. But for you? Trust in _yourself_." With that, he faded out of sight.


	54. Spots 1

[Spots]

* * *

"I'm Spots, by the way," FO-1284 said with forced cheer. It was on the open channel as there wasn't any need to be secretive about it.

"Huh?" Corporal H-482 answered as they marched.

"My name. Between leaving the _Finalizer_ and getting here and everything else. I never had a chance to introduce myself as a squad member. I did this morning to CL-0745, but I don't know that she told anyone else."

"Oh," he said. "Yeah, that's good. Guess you know mine."

"Is it 'The Old Man' or just 'Old Man'?"

"Either. The reason for it is obvious enough."

"Same for mine."

"Spots? How's that?"

"My skin?"

"Oh. I didn't look."

She wondered if he truly hadn't noticed, or was just being polite. Either reaction was good. Her non-human ancestry had been a source of discrimination and bullying all her life. Any deviation from the norm was strongly discouraged among children and subadults of the Order. Those deviations you were unable to do anything about seemed to get double the pressure. She wasn't even sure her splotches were due to the one-eighth alien blood she carried. It could be no more than vivid birthmarks she was unfortunate enough to have on her face. But the ears … well, they were a giveaway.

A comm chimed and they stopped. Finn pulled out his comm and began giving a status report to General Hux that they still had not reached the wing, even after all this time. Spots could hear a murmur from Corporal H-482 next to her, so she assumed he was giving a similar report to the first sergeant. That was good, too. At least while he was reporting in, he was unlikely to be agitating for them to keep moving. He'd brought it up enough for her to get paranoid.

It was well after midday as it was. She overheard Finn saying something promising, though. He'd handed off the comm to Commander Tico and now had the quadnoculars over his eyes. Spots looked forward in the same direction, using her tongue, facial muscles, and blinking to interact with the heads-up display and activate the zoom function in her helmet.

There was definitely something up there, but it was difficult to see through the trees. It was something dark, localized, and … had she just seen something move? She toggled back to standard, looking to see if Finn had reacted, but he had already handed off the quadnoculars and was talking into the comm again. Spots went back through the commands to zoom, but right as she was finishing, they began to move.

She stumbled, resetting her helmet back to standard so she could see where she was going. It was probably just … what? What had she seen? It had looked blueish and it had moved in a way that didn't seem like the wind on a frond-y tree-top. That was all she knew.

As they approached, it became clear to everyone they'd finally found the wing. It was about half-extended and from their point of view, rammed into the ground along the leading edge. That created a pretty big triangle of space they couldn't see the other side of. "Corporal?"

Their formation had loosened considerably as they were nearing it. The trooper at the front, TN-1017, had angled to the right to go around it. The Wookiee and Dameron were going left. Finn and Tico trailed behind TN-1017, but they had increased their pace and were nearly on his heels. Threnalli – the Abednedo – had taken up pushing the repulsor-lift because the follow-along function had given out after less than an hour of operation. They were lucky it still floated. DL-8192 and DL-1364 had both gone a short distance further out to each side before stopping, roughly making a line with H-482 and Spots as they came up the center.

"Yeah?" the corporal said.

"Isn't that-" That was as far as she got in pointing out the poor tactics of their approach. As any unwary person would, TN-1017 had taken the shortest possible route around the edge of the wing. That meant he rounded the side only an arm's length or two from it. To everyone's surprise, something the size of two adult humans surged out, barreling into him and knocking him to the ground. It was a blue-grey and somewhat cylindrical crustacean with what looked like a dozen pointy white legs. It landed on top of him, accompanied by a sickening crunch and popping noise followed by an alarmed yelp from Ten-ten.

All of that happened fast, faster than anyone could react.

But then all hell broke loose. Finn and Tico pulled their pistols, getting off one wild shot each before redirecting as a differently-shaped monster followed the first one out. This one was flatter, shaped more like a crab. Two other of the krill-shaped ones (like the cylindrical one) scuttled over the further edge of the wing and came hopping down it toward the rest of their group.

DL-1364 didn't do anything. H-482 fired twice at the one on TN-1017, then yelled, "Open fire! Engage!" Spots would have wondered why he bothered if DL-1364 hadn't been standing there like a lump. Everyone was already in motion aside from her.


	55. DL-1364 1

[DL-1364]

* * *

Something like a huge krill, except adapted for life on land, had rushed out from behind the wing and leaped on top of TN-1017. DL-1364 found herself frozen in place, stunned by this. It was all happening again. She was going to lose all her people. The ship had already been cut in half. Why hadn't she recognized the parallel before now? And the monsters – the monsters were going to eat everyone, relentless as the void of space. Unable to look away, unable to move, she saw it tear off TN-1017's arm.

Corporal H-482 called out, "Open fire! Engage!" The voice was loud in her ears and jarred her into action. Training – so much training, so many simulations, so much drill and practice – allowed her to raise her blaster, take aim, and mechanically pull the trigger.

One shot. Then another. Then another. Even and spaced as she stepped forward with a steady, measured pace. Nothing really mattered, after all. It was like a sim. She hit the thing with every blast. She could see the bolts boil and flay and bubble the segmented shell of the thing, hurting it but not doing any more damage than if you held a burning iron to a person's skin for a few seconds – agonizing, but not life-threatening. Then two shots from H-482, in quick succession and targeting the same spot, penetrated. It must have severed the spine, because the creature collapsed backward, permanently interrupted from eating TN-1017.

DL-1364 turned, taking in the scene. She hadn't been given new orders and lacking those, she just stood there and stared. DL-8192 was getting back up, the land-krill on her having been dispatched by the Wookiee's bowcaster. There was another one dead nearby – doubtless it had attacked the Rebels, but apparently it didn't have much luck in that. Given what she'd seen of the one she'd fired on, she assumed the bowcaster had dispatched both of them.

The Wookiee and Commander Dameron ran forward to where all other attention was focused. Tico was trapped under the repulsor-lift, which Threnalli was using to shove a crab-like monster, keeping it from attacking her. Denied its primary target, it turned to Finn, who was peppering it with ineffective shots from his blaster pistol. It caught his forearm briefly with a claw, trying to jerk Finn forward so it could bite him. The sharp spines of the claw ripped through Finn's unarmored flesh. He avoided its mouth, but he still fell with a pained noise.

FO-1282 leaped on the repulsor-lift, then nimbly transferred from it to the broad, flat back of the crab, somehow keeping her balance while putting the muzzle of her weapon directly against the shell. She fired. The gun bucked in recoil. The crab staggered, clearly mortally wounded. She fell between it and the wing section as it scuttled back and forth without coordination. People stopped shooting, as they were in each other's firing lines and it looked like it might die for good any second.

At the last moment, it managed to identify the person who had harmed it and lunged toward FO-1282, who had been unable to find her feet with the thing knocking into her and the ground loose beneath her. But her blaster was up, shoved into the gaping mouth that reached for her, and blew another hole in the thing from the inside.

It was dead. DL-1364 felt dull inside and tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of all this. Being alive was exhausting. But the alternative? She didn't want to die. She just expected to. Dully, she looked down at her blaster rifle to check the settings. Everything was fine on it. She couldn't help but reflect it would have been better if she'd been on point instead of TN-1017.


	56. Spots 2

[Spots]

* * *

As the crab-monster sagged forward in a feeble, dying lunge, Spots jammed the muzzle of her blaster into its maw and pulled the trigger. And that was it. Battle over. She pushed the now-unmoving carcass off her to see that all other hostiles had been eliminated. DL-8192 looked fine. Tico was on her knees dry heaving with Chewbacca at her side.

Finn was back on his feet, but cradling one arm and bleeding copiously from it. Dameron was next to him looking at the wound. H-482 was still on alert, head on a swivel, looking unconvinced the encounter was over. DL-1364 was as lifeless as a set of armor on a rack, but she was standing with blaster in hand and no evident injury.

Spots looked around again, counting helmets. "Ten-ten? TN …" She shoved herself to her feet. She could see him. He was still on his back, but he was moving. He had a knee up, legs moving restless and uncoordinated. One arm was pulled across his chest, reaching toward his other arm. She clambered over the crab to get to him. "TN-1017?"

"You're not supposed to," he said weakly as she reached him.

"What?"

"You're not supposed to pay attention to fallen troopers."

"Not until the battle's over, idiot, and it is." She knelt next to him, but she didn't know what to do. One of his arms had been bitten off right above the elbow. Blood was spurting from it even faster than from Finn. The armor of his breastplate was fine, but the strap that connected it to the back plate had been sheared off and there was a matching chunk taken out of the jawline of his helmet as well. The bite power required to do such a thing was enormous. He was bleeding from a deep wound to his shoulder underneath. But … the arm. "Your arm."

"I think it … bit it off." His head lolled back, breath rasping unevenly in his helmet.

"I think it did, too," she said faintly.

H-482 came up behind them and took a good, long look at Ten-ten. "Well, kriff."

Spots, on her knees, didn't get any warning of H-482's intentions. A blaster bolt burned through the air next to her, catching TN-1017 in the neck seal of his under-armor. He made a gurgle and a jerk, the noises lost to her as blood spattered her visor and painted the world red. She shuddered. All she could think was that H-482 had turned somehow. _He_ was the enemy.

She lunged upward, bringing her blaster to bear on H-482. They were so close that he smacked it out of the way with his own, making her shot go wild. She tried to bring it back. He rammed her with his shoulder, knocking her off her feet. He was yelling. A lot of people were yelling.

DL-1364 grabbed her, fell on top of her maybe. But at least Spots registered her as a squad mate, as much as she was coming to realize the Old Man was not some enemy simulation to be destroyed.

H-482 said, "Take her blaster! Get a hold of yourself, soldier!" Then he jerked to the side, blaster leveled that way as his attention shifted to Dameron, who had just come dashing up. "This is none of your business, scum!" Some degree of silence fell over the group.

DL-1364 took Spots' blaster. Spots told her, "I didn't … I … I thought …"

DL-1364 said, "It'll be okay. It's okay. Just calm down. Just like they told me. Just be calm. It'll be okay. Follow orders. Don't think about it. It'll be okay." The vocoder stripped out much of the emotion from her voice, but the advice was strangely heartfelt nonetheless.

Spots laughed morbidly and looked over at Ten-ten. He wasn't going to be okay. He was dead – H-482's bolt had killed him instantly. She got to her feet and wiped at the blood on her visor, although that only made things worse. "My mistake," she said to H-482. "I thought you were … someone else."

"You still think that?"

"No. No sir."

He reached over and took Spots' blaster from DL-1364. "We are in the middle of who-knows-where. There is no medbay in reach. There is no extraction coming. We didn't even bring a first aid kit!" He shook the rifle for emphasis, holding it by the stock so the barrel was pointed at the sky.

H-482 went on, "He was bleeding out. These things are meat-eaters and scent-trackers. If we left here _right now_, we couldn't get back to the shuttle before dark. You know why these things were lying in wait here?"

She shook her head dumbly.

"Because it's dark under that wing."

She looked at it, eyes wide behind the visor of her helmet.

"Out of all of you misfits, I liked him the best. But if any of us are going to make it back alive, we have to be able to pull our own weight."

She nodded. He offered the blaster rifle. She took it silently, still processing the brutal practicality of his words, along with how dire he must think the situation to be if he was leaving her alive after what she'd done.

Dameron had been standing there all along, not saying anything as H-482 had his say. Now he said simply, "You try to kill another one of them and I'm killing you."

"Thanks for the warning, sleemo," H-482 said.

"That applies to all of us." This came from Tico, who was back on her feet looking recovered.

"That's not helping" H-482 said in the flat tone of the vocoder.

"Killing your own people is not helping!" Dameron said in sudden, frustrated outrage.

"He was dying anyway!" H-482 insisted.

"So are all of us, at some point. Don't hurry it along. Okay?" Dameron seemed to be genuinely asking, pleading, under the anger.

H-482 made an eye-rolling head-wobble and moved past Dameron, avoiding the obvious opportunity to shoulder-check him. "DL-8192, status report."

"Fit for duty, sir," DL-8192 said.

Dameron muttered sarcastically, "Yeah, I'm sure everyone's going to say that. Stars." He turned to Spots. "You okay? For real?"

She nodded slowly and reached up to take off her helmet. "I need to wipe this clear. There's blood … But I don't have a cloth." Once the helmet was off, there was no way to conceal that her voice was shaking. DL-1364 was still next to her, closer than normal. There was something comforting in that.

"Kay. Give it here." Dameron took the helmet from her and scrubbed the visor on the arm of his shirt, soiling the fabric but clearing the visor. "I'm sorry," he said as he handed it back.

"For what?"

"For …" He gestured toward TN-1017's corpse.

"I hardly knew him."

"Don't do that," Dameron said curtly.

"Do what?"

"Don't let what they've done to you kill your spirit. Your soul. You're a person. You're not a machine. None of us are. He wasn't."

She swallowed and fidgeted with the helmet, thinking about how mechanical it had felt to turn on H-482. It should have been impossible, but she'd felt like she was on autopilot. Wasn't that the point of all their endless training? DL-1364 bumped her with an elbow and told her quietly, "He's right."


	57. Lady 4

[Lady]

* * *

The open comm channel relayed anything the simplistic algorithm thought to be an intentional utterance. Thus, it usually scrubbed out sounds of breathing, grunts of exertion, and occasionally, erroneously in her opinion, it took out sighs, soft chuckles, or moans. But it never took out screams. CL-0745 wished it did.

She was working with Teller (FN-9013), examining the amino profile on what she would have described as a fern. It looked edible, though not especially nutritious. Her side of the open channel was muted so her conversations with Teller went unheard by the away team. They'd just checked in minutes earlier; she had no reason to be paying attention to them. She jolted when she heard the sound of muffled blaster fire.

"Wait," she told Teller. She straightened, toggling quickly through screens inside her helmet – increasing the volume, trying to track the source. Failing that, she engaged verbal commands. "Tactical screen, Recon group." Her heads-up display was replaced by five small summaries, showing the visual read of each helmet, a bar on one side showing if the system recognized the person as speaking, and a bar on the other side that gave a simplified form of vitals – green, yellow, and red.

It had only taken her seconds to get to that screen, but by the time she was, TN-1017 was bright red for injured; DL-8192 and FO-1282 were (unsurprisingly) yellow for exertion; and DL-1364 was green for whatever reason – cool as could be. All CL-0745 caught of the battle was a frightening and confusing image as a carapaced thing lunged at FO-1282, who fed it the business end of her blaster rifle and killed it.

She was watching as TN-1017's status bar went black. She heard the ensuing argument. She stayed out of it. They'd just had a life or death ambush and everyone was shaken up, tensions running high (and now, just as the others were returning to green, DL-1364 went to yellow; she wished she understood more about trauma response to understand that). But as far as strategy went, the Old Man's assessment of the dangers of their situation was accurate. The distance, the timetable, the threats – all valid.

FO-1282 turning her weapon on him was a capital offense – no doubt about it, no ambiguity. Training and protocol dictated she be terminated immediately. Obviously, H-482 was making a field commander decision to ignore it. Given FO-1282's performance on the crab-thing and their difficult situation otherwise, CL-0745 could understand that decision and made no attempt to countermand it.

She handed the scanner to Teller. "Pull back. I need to give a report to General Hux."


	58. Hux 15

[Hux]

* * *

"There's been an incident, sir," CL-0745 informed him, standing on the ground next to where he was balanced on an engine housing on a chair seat. It was not the most stable, but it gave him access to the sheared wing.

Hux turned carefully. He was cleaning up the attachment points, mainly just keeping himself busy but there was some value to what he was doing. "What happened?"

"Here, sir?"

Lieutenant Connix was helping him, handing him tools, making sure he didn't fall, and keeping her mouth shut for the most part. He'd found her to be a pleasant working companion in that regard. "Here is fine," he said, crouching and then hopping down. The soft ground made that safe enough. "What happened?"

"I don't have a formal report yet, but they reached the wing and found several creatures at the site. They were attacked. One casualty. Injuries being determined."

"Who-?" It was all Connix said before catching herself.

"The casualty?" Hux asked CL-0745, partly to be polite to Connix, but mostly because it might be important. Poe was on that mission. And if it were Finn, that might explain why he was getting this report from the first sergeant instead of the unit commander on scene.

"TN-1017. No known injuries on our side. Finn is hurt."

"Well, he was expendable," Hux said. Connix gave him a dirty look. Hux ignored it, but noted that perhaps he should have been more circumspect. "Do we have the wing?"

"The site is secure for the moment. The corporal believes there will be further interference from the native life after the sun sets."

He glanced to the sky. They'd be hard-pressed to make it back before dark even if they returned now, without their objective. Sleeping in and taking their time in the morning had cost them, but there was nothing to be achieved now in pointing that out. What they could salvage was this: "By then they should have the wing prepped and ready to move. Was any of their equipment damaged?"

"Unknown. I don't believe so. If I may predict a question from Corporal H-482, he will need to know if they should fortify position until dawn, or if they should march through the night."

"March through the night, as long as they're not losing Commanders Tico or Dameron to do it. Or the Wookiee."

"Yes sir." She gave a nod and went inside the shuttle, probably to use the better comm station in the cockpit.

Next to him, Connix said, "None of our people are expendable."

He didn't have to argue with her. He didn't even have to talk with her. But she'd held her tongue while they were working and while he was conversing with CL-0745. "What we need to get off this planet are people who can repair the ship. From the conversation this morning, that list does not include Finn, Threnalli, or any of the stormtroopers. Thus, they are expendable."

"Does it include you?"

"My mechanical talents are light on hands-on application. If it came down to it, I would attempt the repair. I have no certainty I would accomplish it." Desperate times, desperate measures. He figured he'd fail, but it wouldn't be from lack of trying.

"That's not an answer."

He realized she didn't know about the connection with Palpatine. Her pressing the subject made him wonder if she was suspicious about it, as she should be. Why was Poe keeping secrets from his own people? Hux lied, "I am both expendable and replaceable."

She didn't look like she believed him, so he went on, "Since the Siege of Arkanis I have known life is cheap, it can be over in an instant, and I am no more immune to death or danger than anyone else. I do not cling to the degenerate ideals of the New Republic, fixated on pleasure and the over-inflated value of the individual. Duty is foremost!"

"Duty to a group that doesn't value you? Why?"

"The First Order's goals more important than anyone's ego." He began to climb up again, stepping on the seat of the chair. She extended a hand to him for balance. He hesitated before taking it, remembering how Rose had accepted his similar offer. With her help and his other hand on the hull, he was able to get himself back up where he'd started.

Once he was settled, Connix asked, "What goals are those, besides galactic conquest?"

"The reason we _have taken over_ the galaxy, past tense, is to restore peace, justice, and a unified government throughout this galaxy. That is the _point_ of said conquest."

"So what was going on that we flew into? Because those were First Order ships attacking yours."

He sighed and shut his eyes for a moment, then wiped at them. His gloves were dirty. This did not help. "Yes. Yes, they were." He tried wiping with the back of his gloves, which was cleaner, but his eyes were still watering from whatever he'd inadvertently smeared into them in the first place. While gravity would definitely pull him down, he no longer felt safe to jump. "Can you … bring me a damp towel or something?" He blinked furiously, enough to see her cock her head at him and then wordlessly disappear up the ramp.

"Sir?" It was the voice of the trooper assigned to guard him, FL-2216.

"I'll be fine. Keep your position." He closed his eyes and put a hand on the hull to make sure he didn't fall.

Connix returned with a white cloth. Using something long and slender from the repair kit, she lifted it up where he could get it without reaching down too much. He wiped his eyes thoroughly, then his fingers.

"You could take the gloves off," she suggested.

He shook his head. "I have already snagged them several times on burrs and sharp edges. Better them than my skin." He tossed down the cloth. "Thank you." He went back to fishing around in the crevice he was working in, pulling out wires and bundling them for easy access when the wing was returned.

"What was happening?" Kaydel asked, her voice less confrontational than it had been. "In that battle?"

He could lie again. He could sidestep. He could selectively tell enough truth to satisfy her. He wasn't sure what possessed him of the urge, but he decided to do none of these. "Your people have not given you the entire story." Maybe it was Ren giving him a straight answer earlier.

"_My_ people? They know?"

"Yes."

"But you won't tell me?"

"I can't inform you as long as you're part of the Resistance, truce or no truce. That's not how the military works."

"Yes, I know." She looked thoughtful for a bit, then said, "But you _are_ telling me that _they're_ not telling me things. Either you're trying to make me distrustful of my own people, or you're trying to warn me. Which doesn't make much sense."

"Neither. I'm trying to be … honest. I do not know what level of clearance you have. As your Commander Dameron has observed, I am a by-the-book personality."

"Honest." She sounded puzzled and amused by that. "Well, I guess I'll be a little by-the-book myself and go up the chain of command then. When our chain of command gets back."

"Exactly," he nodded approvingly.

She was quiet for a few minutes, before saying, "Is there anything we can do to help them?"

He paused in his work. "You Resistance members are truly enamored of discussing things in committee, aren't you?"

"How else-" She cut herself off. "Yes."

He sighed. "It's amazing you manage to get anything done."

"You said earlier this was just make-work."

He rolled his eyes and humored her. "Very well. I could call them back. They might make it here before dark. Another effort could be launched tomorrow, leaving promptly at first light. But we aren't certain the creatures are nocturnal or even that there are more of them which will find them tonight. I _am_ certain our food supplies are limited enough that losing a day is an important consideration." Also, he wouldn't mention it, but he wasn't sure how many nights he could go like the last one and still be effective.

"You could send out reinforcements. You have an entire extra squad here."

"I could. That squad is currently defending our greatest physical asset – the shuttle. I don't want to leave it undefended or even under-defended. We don't know that there isn't intelligent life here, or a space-faring one with sensors, waiting for us to clear out. Which also argues against having the field unit drop their equipment at the wing site and double-time it back here. If those repulsors go missing or are damaged, we are potentially stranded forever."

"Kylo and Rey could go."

"The Force users are our greatest _personnel_ asset. Sending them is a risk and not one I'm willing to undertake at the moment – Resistance members or no." And Ren had explicitly refused to acknowledge that Hux was in charge, something Hux was not eager to make a public issue of by trying to order the man to do anything. 'Never give a command you can't enforce' was one of his father's axioms.

She didn't say anything for a while. "Okay. Make-work it is."

Dryly, he said, "I am pleased my decision meets with your approval." He glanced down to see Connix had grinned at that.


	59. The Old Man 3

[The Old Man]

* * *

After briefing CL-0745, H-482 walked over to inspect Finn. With the Abednedo's help, Dameron was putting the finishing touches on Finn's arm, having staunched the bleeding with a wrap that had been cut from the arm of Finn's own shirt. It looked insufficient. Part of the deep slice down his forearm was still exposed and leaking blood, just not as profusely as before.

"Can you stand watch or be a perimeter guard?" H-482 asked.

The three Rebels exchanged a look. Finn said, "Yes. That's not my blaster hand."

"So I'd guessed from your rig." H-482 gestured at Finn's hip holster on the same side as his uninjured arm.

"Hey," Finn said as H-482 started to turn away. "You said these were scent-trackers. How do you know that?"

"They didn't come here to hide under our wing section on a lark. They came here because we took a shuttle and injured every tree or whatever from here to clicks that way." He pointed his elbow in the direction of the crashed shuttle. "How do they know that happened? They must have smelled it. They were here last night and took cover under the wing so they'd be here when it got dark again. Maybe they're feeding on the trees or maybe they were eating the things that eat the trees. Not that these things _are_ trees. They're more like hairs on a beast."

"We're …" Finn blinked at him, then lowered his voice like that might make a difference. "We're on a giant monster?"

"I have no idea what we're on. But it reacted when the lightsaber was used on it and those … things that look like trees aren't plants. Not entirely. They're something else. Take that corner." He pointed. "Standard four-point perimeter. You got it?"

"Yes."

He noticed the lack of 'sir', but two things kept him from saying anything about it: 1) He had no idea of Finn's rank. None had been given that he'd heard and Finn was at least a unit commander, being treated as the equivalent of First Sergeant CL-0745. And 2) leaving it off was likely a conscious choice on Finn's part to make sure he knew point 1. Such was the nature of standard high-context First Order communication.

H-482 stomped over to where TN-1017 lay and crouched next to him. He sat there for several long moments, staring at the body. The Old Man had been pulled off another _Finalizer_ internal security unit to head up these oddballs and strengthen the group's leadership given the pending departure of CL-0745. It was thought (or at least, he'd been told) that his seniority and experience would help stabilize the group through this transition, that he would help pull them together as a team.

He didn't know where the higher-ups had gotten that impression – that he had anything like leadership skills. He'd happily avoided promotion for years. There was no benefit to it – no salary, no privileges he cared to have – just more responsibility. Like the responsibility for this dead guy, whom he'd actually liked. Guy had a lot of potential. None, now. Slowly, he sank to both knees on the soft ground.

He thought a quick prayer to the All-Power, that TN-1017 might find his way in the cycle with peace and joy. Religion was forbidden in the Order, but they couldn't take his thoughts from him, or his past. Not that he was or had ever been especially observant. He dutifully stripped the corpse of everything useful, which only amounted to the utility belt with the various charger packs and the F-11D blaster. He considered the riot shield, but none of them trained with it regularly.

From there, he moved to the beast they'd felled and examined the wounds on it. These cylindrical, shrimp-like creatures had thinner shells than the crab one. He found confirmation of something he'd seen as they fired – it took multiple shots to the same spot to penetrate. The shells had a crystalline property of some kind that scattered and diffused the blaster bolt on impact.

He put his shoulder to the thing and pushed it over, exposing the underbelly with its many legs. With a short blade (he would have preferred a long one, but he didn't tend to need a longer knife while patrolling the _Finalizer_ and he hadn't brought either of the two from the survival kit), he cut down the thing's midsection – cutting, and cutting, and cutting again with the short blade, peeling it open in layers.

"What are you doing?"

He jumped at the voice, looking over his shoulder to see Dameron again. "What are _you_ doing?" he fired back.

"Installing the repulsors is a three-person job – one to hold the unit, one to make connections, one to check the control module. Rose, Chewbacca, and C'ai have it under control and with Finn, you have four guards. I'm extra. So … what are _you_ doing?"

"I'm checking to see what it eats." He'd found the beast's stomach, or what passed for it. He fished out TN-1017's forearm and tossed it at Dameron's feet, gratified when it made the man jump and blanch. "Aside from stormtroopers." He examined the chunky goop that made up the rest of the contents. His hands were coated with it now.

Dameron gingerly moved around the severed limb and squatted next to him. "That's really disgusting. I say that as someone who's seen some truly disgusting things in my life."

"Probably not as disgusting as the ones I've seen."

"What's the worst thing you've ever seen?"

"Full container of Kowakian monkey-lizards left on Taurek. They weren't legal, but Taurek hosted a lot of smuggling. Anyway, it wasn't labeled right, so of course it got left out in the yard and the heat killed them. Once they were dead, the carrier ditched them. We didn't figure out the cargo was abandoned until the stench was too thick to ignore. But somebody still has to clean that up and I got jobs by being cheaper than a droid."

"That's pretty gross," Dameron agreed.

"How about you?"

"Hutt vomit."

"Ew." That was a surprising one. He'd never seen a Hutt in person – only in holos. "How'd you come across that?"

"Ah, we bounced a guy named Grakkus around in a gravity field. Apparently it upset his tummy."

"I'll bet. Here, get my helmet off. I don't want to touch it."

Dameron reached over and fumbled at the edge of it, pressing three different comm settings before finding the latches and lifting it off. H-482 sniffed the stomach contents of the monster. "I need to know if they attacked us because we surprised them, or if they attacked us because we're food."

"How can you tell?"

"If they only eat the bugs, then we probably surprised them. But this stuff isn't … bugs. I think it's flesh from those trees and the bugs must be eating it, too. This is just a bigger version of them. Maybe an adult?"

"There's two different kinds here."

"Maybe a male and a female?"

"Huh. Maybe. Do you, uh …" Dameron made a gesture toward the tail end of the thing.

"I have no idea how to sex them, if that's what you mean. But we might be able to eat this."

"Uh … Are you talking about that goop or the critter?"

He gave Dameron a side-eye, checking to see if the guy was messing with him. He seemed serious. "The critter." Though he assumed the goop was edible, too. Obviously the critter had thought so.

"Yeah, okay, I suppose so." Dameron swallowed roughly, clearly not thrilled with the prospect regardless.

"It smells like this because I cut it open. The meat won't smell bad and there are, what?, three others? I'll be more careful with them." He wiped his hands off on the punky ground. Then he had a thought and dug into the dirt, or what looked like dirt. It wasn't a mineral. They'd been walking on it all day and it was various degrees of firm, mostly springy and soft. "TN-1017 said he saw one of those little bugs dig itself out of the ground."

He didn't come up with one of the bugs – not right there – but the material was loose and he found, in the small area he dug up by hand, several husks.

"Those look like sheds," Dameron said.

H-482 nodded. "Yep. They're living in this. We're walking over them. That's why they weren't showing up on scanners last night. It means we can't really get away from them. This planet is a horror show." He set them aside and wiped his hands determinedly over his armor, taking off the shine and dirtying it up. When he was done, he asked, "Let me have my helmet."

Dameron handed it over. "You don't need it. It's not like any of us are going to tell on you for leaving it off."

He put it on anyway. "It has a live comm link with the shuttle. Plus sensors and maybe it will slow one of these things down from biting my head off."

"A live comm link?"

"Yeah."

"They're listening to us right now?"

"I'm sure she has better things to do than hang on our every word, but yeah."

"That's creepy."

H-482 shrugged. "You get used to it."


	60. Rose 2

[Rose]

* * *

For the trek back, Rose was put on repulsor-lift duty. She didn't mind, but she could have done without being bossed around by H-482 like he was in charge of everything. Which she supposed he was. He hadn't been put in charge of this mission – only of his troopers – but he had now _taken_ charge and no one was arguing.

She thought about arguing. Paige had told her this was part of the norm with a military organization, whether it was the Resistance or the First Order: you had to follow orders even when you thought they were stupid. You never had to if they were _wrong_ (and that was the difference between the Resistance and the First Order), but simple disagreement wasn't enough of a reason.

It was hard to disagree. Chewbacca, C'ai, and Poe were engaged with pushing the wing. They were the strongest and the thing had a lot of inertia they had to manage. Finn was on guard duty to her left, H-482 to her right, and one of the other stormtroopers brought up the rear. The last trooper was engaged as a spotter to better help them avoid hitting trees with the upper leading edge of the wing. That one was on the point position when she wasn't walking backwards, facing the wing section and calling out directions.

The shuttle had had repulsors sufficient to lift the ship, allowing hovering and maneuvering, and making landings and take-offs much easier on the overall structure of the ship. It was like a miniature, highly localized, upside-down gravity field (which was almost exactly what it was, using the same technology as artificial gravity fields in ships).

While grounded, the shuttle didn't need them. So they'd removed the units and brought them to the detached wing, using them to lift the immense bulk of the thing. They'd brought control panels as well to make sure the repulsor pads stayed consistent in their force, not tipping to one side or the other. The wing essentially 'hung' facing the sky in its own gravity field.

But the repulsors didn't create any momentum (they _could_, with careful programming so the object levitated 'fell' in the direction you wanted it to go, but setting the units up that way would require programming and controls beyond their current resources). It was easier to use thrusters as they did on a ship, but out here it meant people had to push it. This was why she was pushing the repulsor-lift – the follow-along function had burned out on their trip out and she was the best candidate, with two working arms and no see-in-the-dark helmet.

Finn had retrieved the helmet from the fallen stormtrooper, putting it on the repulsor-lift before they'd left, setting it next to the utility belt and blaster that H-482 had put there. Later, when dusk settled, Finn took it back, fiddled with it knowledgeably until indicator lights came on inside, and then put it on his head. He adjusted it and said, "I never thought I'd be wearing one of these again." The vocoder made his voice sound weird – still recognizable, but weird.

She smiled tightly at him. "So that's what you looked like, before." She didn't mention the smears of blood on the sides where he'd touched it. As gruesome as it would be if it was from the previous owner, she'd rather that than think it must be Finn's.

He shrugged. "Yep. This is what we look like. Some of us. Others look different." He laughed once as though that was a joke. Then as if to himself, he said, "Huh? … Yeah. Finn. … Ha ha. Dead man walking, huh? Very funny. … Acknowledged." She supposed he was having a conversation with someone through the helmet, which given he was missing the neck seal, under armor and whatever other stuff went with the kit, the sound of his voice wasn't muffled into unintelligibility like it was when troopers normally had side conversations. He went to his escort position to the side, hopefully now better able to see.

The repulsor-lift was heaped with chunks of dead crab creature which H-482 believed was edible, or as he'd told his troopers, "We're taking it back _in case_ it's edible. And I don't want to hear anything about it from you lot. It's been twenty-five years since I've had any decent sea food and I know this isn't the same thing, but it's close." Even with the meat, their tools, and the stuff, it was easier to push than it had been coming out, when C'ai had been handling it. The repulsor panels and their batteries had been far over what the lift was built to move.

She was glad they had it, so they weren't having to carry this stuff on their backs. Even before dark had descended, the smaller bugs had emerged from the ground around their worksite. They seemed drawn to the bodies, the smell of death and promise of food being enough to overcome their sensitivity to the light. And now that it _was_ dark, they were everywhere. Every now and then, the stormtroopers or Finn would shoot into the darkness, but Rose didn't know what good it did to kill one or two when there were scores of them around.

She could hear them scuffling along the ground and a couple times she thought she'd accidentally kicked them out of the way. Not all of them were as small as the one they'd seen the night before. She suspected they were homing in on the smell of meat, but given that the repulsor-lift floated, there was no way for them to get to it. But they could still get on _her_.

The group stopped at one point after a few hours of slow slog through the night. The wing couldn't be pushed nearly as fast as they'd walked on the way out to it. At this point, they were just hoping they'd get back by dawn. Ahead, there were several crossed trees blocking their path. DL-whichever-of-those-two, the one up in the lead, wasn't the best navigator. They needed to back up and try a different route. Finn, H-482, and the woman on point were discussing the options they could see. In the meantime, something started climbing Rose's pant leg.

She tried to kick it off. That didn't work at first, so she tried again harder. This time she succeeded, but she also crunched something else underfoot when she put her foot down. "Oh! I'm sorry," she grimaced, even though she knew the things would probably eat her if they got a mind to. Certainly those bigger ones hadn't hesitated. The smaller ones weren't 'cute' (none of them were), but that didn't mean she was happy about killing them unnecessarily.

She tried moving the repulsor-lift in a big circle as the delay stretched out. They'd backed up the wing and were trying a different path now. She could hear the irritation in everyone's voices. They'd had a battle yesterday. No one had slept well that night on the hard floor. They'd spent the morning disassembling the shuttle, then marched the rest of the day as fast as H-482 had been able to push them.

They'd had another fight (more visceral this time), followed by more mechanical work, and now they were marching through the night pushing this wing in the dark (or in Rose's case, the repulsor-lift). They were out of food (at least, out of non-raw food), long since out of water, and everyone was dehydrated. Given they were two different sides in an ongoing war, it was amazing there had only been a few death threats.

Rose kept circling to keep herself from the temptation to sit down, lie down, wait, and potentially fall asleep. The ground was so soft. It would make a lovely bed. But she kept moving. She was having to shuffle her feet to avoid stepping on the critters. There were so many of the things now! She couldn't see the ground, but she knew they were there. They had a light in their gear, but had refrained from using it due to the troopers already being able to see and the concern that light would attract more bugs.

She accidentally kicked one that was big. It didn't move. It hissed at her instead and she felt a sharp, sudden pain at her ankle, even through the boots she was wearing. She yelped and stepped back, only to crunch a smaller one underfoot. Something hissed again.

"Rose?" Finn asked from where he'd been distracted by the wing maneuvering, many meters away by now.

"Finn? Yeah, they're-"

"Oh no! Rose!" Whatever he saw sparked sudden alarm in his voice and he came running. "Don't move! I mean-" She felt them then as they swarmed up her legs in masse. "No," Finn yelled, changing his mind, "move! Move! Run!"

Flailing, she tried, but they were all over her. She batted at them and knocked some off. Several more bit her, each bite like a pair of scissors cutting into her body, mainly her legs. She'd looked at the big ones and seen they came equipped with a pair of sharp plates in front of their mouths, powerful mandibles that fit together like a pair of blades, allowing them to take chunks out of whatever it was they ate.

She only made it a few steps before Finn was there, grabbing them off her and throwing them aside. Between his efforts, hers, and her frantic dancing, she got most of them off. By then, Threnalli had reached the lift and turned on the light, shining it over at them.

Rose backed up, mouth agape, because while they'd left her, they were now swarming over Finn.

"They're on him!" one of the stormtroopers yelled.

The corporal said, "Shoot him!"

"NO!" Poe yelled back, trying to throw himself between Finn (who was yelping and thrashing to no effect now – the things had latched on all over his body, it was like a horror holo) and the two nearest troopers. In the background, Chewbacca was wailing something about them climbing on him, too.

Rose knew in an instant what had happened to cause all of this. They'd stopped their forward progress, allowing the creatures to catch up and close in. And then she'd walked in a circle over and over, not only spreading the scent of meat but allowing them to congregate. In the darkness, there must have been this mob of them trailing along hopefully behind her, until she was finally walking over them as she completed the same loop. Then they'd drawn fresh blood on her.

And Finn … poor Finn! … was covered with his own blood from the arm wound he'd had earlier. The bugs were in a frenzy now, fighting each other to eat him alive. Most of them were small enough a person could crush them with hands or by stomping on them, but some were bigger. There was one on him the size of a mouse droid and one lurking further out that was the size of BB-8.

"You have armor!" Poe yelled at the stormtroopers, his blaster pistol in his hand but pointed at the troopers instead of the things eating Finn. "Help him!"

They might or might not, but Rose wasn't going to let Finn's life depend on the mercy of stormtroopers. She rushed to the repulsor-lift, only a few steps away, and yanked the extra blaster rifle off it. In the light C'ai was still holding, she rapidly reset it to the absolute minimum setting, swinging the muzzle toward Finn and hoping she'd understood the controls on an unfamiliar weapon. Behind her, C'ai made a startled noise at her choice of target. There was no time for explanations or questions. She fired.

The blue pulse of a stun charge swept out, over Finn and the bugs. They all dropped to the ground at the same time. "Stun them!" Rose yelled, with a surge of hope at how her idea had actually worked. There were too many and they were too small to be killed with single blaster shots. But the stun effect covered an area – not a large area, but as big as a person and as had been shown, up to half a hundred of these things could fit in that area when they were motivated to eat someone.

The stormtroopers reset their weapons and began firing, carpeting the ground around Finn's body. Poe did the same, standing almost directly over Finn as he did it. C'ai took the light to help Chewbacca. The rear-most stormtrooper was helping him as well.

Rose threw the strap of the rifle over her shoulder and went to Finn's side. He still had that helmet on and as much as she wanted to dismiss it as a stupid helmet, it had let him see the things getting ready to attack her and it had protected his face from their mandibles. These smaller ones couldn't bite through armor like the larger. "Finn?"

Poe looked down. "Is he okay? I mean, is he alive? I know he's not okay."

"Yeah, I think so," she answered. She'd lifted off the helmet. She stroked Finn's cheek, reassured that he was still breathing. "Do you know how long the stun setting lasts on one of these blasters?"

Finn jerked and blinked, waking at that moment and making an inarticulate noise. In a dry tone, Poe said, "I'd have to guess it lasts about that long."

Finn said, "Ow! Oh no! They're … Are they …?" He tried to sit up, but was uncoordinated.

Rose helped. She had a dozen bites of her own, so she could easily imagine how much pain he was in. "You need to stand up if you can. I don't know how long they'll stay knocked out."

"Longer than him, probably," Poe said. "They're tiny. It works on mass. That's why you're not supposed to stun kids with an adult setting."

"You stun kids?" Rose said, shooting him a perplexed look as she helped Finn up on one side and Poe on the other.

"No," Poe said. "Not … often. It was just a game."

"What?" Rose asked. She couldn't see his features, but he sounded guilty.

Poe changed the subject. "Hey, Old Guy? Corporal. Whatever. Can you blanket this area again? I don't want these things to wake up and come back for seconds."

"It's 'Old Man'." H-482 came over and shot stun bolts into the mass of already stunned crustaceans. He crunched around, stomping over their bodies intentionally.

"I can call you that?" Poe asked.

"Yeah." The corporal didn't sound thrilled about it. "Don't think that means I won't shoot you later."

Poe laughed. "No, I noticed that. Come on," he said as he got Finn to the repulsor-lift. It had a few blinking lights that made it easy to locate in the dark. "You need to get up on this."

Finn shook his head. "It was overloaded on our way out and stuff broke. I don't want to overload it again and risk us having to carry everything. And I don't want to sit on _that_." He gestured at the assorted meat stacked on it.

"We can ditch the crab," Poe said. "You're more important."

"That might be all we have to eat for the next few days," Finn responded. "I'll walk. Where's my helmet?"

Poe shook his head, but stopped telling Finn what to do and went to fetch it. Rose asked, "Finn, you're bleeding. Can you make it?"

"Then we don't stop," Finn said grimly as Poe handed him the helmet. "Maybe you and me go ahead if the group gets stopped again."

"Whoa, whoa," Poe said. "We don't split up. If we have to do anything like that, we leave the wing here and get all of us to safety. We can come back tomorrow and get it. We can't be far now."

Finn had his helmet on. His voice came out muffled as he said, "First sergeant? CL-0745? … You've got locator IDs on the armor. How far out are we? … Oh. You are? … Okay." He took the helmet off for a moment to talk with Rose and Poe. "They're, um, they're sending out a quick reaction force - the FN squad. We should keep going, though. Meet them in the middle."

"Sounds good," Poe said, heading back to where Chewbacca and C'ai were already back to moving the wing.


	61. Poe 4

[Poe]

* * *

Poe had never been so glad to see a First Order ship as he was when the busted shuttle came into view around the wing section they were pushing.

Everyone left came out to see them: Rey, Kylo, Kaydel, Hux, the first sergeant, and the staff sergeant. The five members of the FN fire team had met them earlier, with two of them taking turns helping Finn, one pushing the repulsor-lift to give Rose a break, and the other two augmenting as guards and spotters.

Poe would have hugged Rey (and he fully intended to, but Finn got there first, swallowing her up in his arms, looking like she was half holding him up). Chewbacca embraced Kaydel with one hairy arm. Rose looked tiny where she hugged Kylo, who looked less than enthused about it, but tolerant.

Poe was left out. He looked at Hux and spread his arms in obvious invitation, tilted his head, and raised his brows in half-serious question. Hux looked uncertain. He looked at the others. He raised his hands somewhat and while it wasn't an invitation in return, it definitely wasn't refusal.

Poe decided that was good enough. He took one long, expertly calibrated step – not too fast, not too slow – and brought their bodies together. He wrapped his arms around the thin man and held him loosely, gently, and waited to see what would happen now that they were hugging in public, as it were.

Hux was stiff at first, but slowly brought his hands around to the middle of Poe's back. Poe gradually firmed his grip until he was holding them snugly together. He could feel Hux relaxing into it – at least a little. It wasn't a lot, but Poe could feel it and what was definitely happening was that Hux wasn't cutting it short or pushing him away.

Poe's head was sideways on Hux's chest. He looked over his shoulder with the intention of smirking at his friends at how he was getting a hug from General Hugs, but what he saw distracted him. Finn had finished his hug with Rey and was moving over to Kaydel and Chewie. One of the DL stormtroopers came over to Rey and lined up for a hug in turn, as though this was what they were all supposed to be doing. Game for it, Rey hugged her back.

Which event prompted the other DL stormtrooper to approach Kylo, who looked over at Rey, his face asking for help. Rey reached out with a foot and kicked at his leg. He scowled at her, then turned and mimed acceptance or readiness, then shared an awkward embrace with a stormtrooper.

Finn nudged Kaydel and whispered to her. She walked over bouncily and presented herself to H-482, him of the dirtied armor. He stared at her for a moment, then shrugged. He, too, got a hug.

Poe finally parted from Hux, thoroughly overjoyed at what had just happened. Even if he knew the stormtroopers had probably misinterpreted their actions as some kind of mandatory ritual, they'd joined in! They'd been trained and brainwashed relentlessly by the First Order to be conformists. Was it any wonder that sticking them in the middle of a bunch of Resistance members was going to make them start conforming … with the Resistance?


	62. Finn 5

[Finn]

* * *

Finn leaned over to Chewie after Kaydel left. "Can you help me up the ramp? I can't lift my left leg right, or correctly, I mean." Some of the bites and gouges were deep into muscle and tendon. The elation of making it back alive was fading fast. "I need to get off my feet before I fall over."

Chewie made agreeable noises and put an arm around him, half-lifting and mostly steadying him. Rose followed as he limped up the ramp. He got into the rear compartment and waved Chewie off. "Thanks. I think we'll take it from here," Finn said as he saw Rose. Chewbacca harrumphed a few times and backed out of the small compartment. It wasn't made for one of his dimensions anyway.

Rose slipped in after he was gone. She let out a deep breath and leaned against the wall opposite him. Both of them were ragged and bloody, their disguise uniforms in tatters. Finn wasn't sure where the helmet had gone. He'd taken it off as soon as they'd arrived. Likewise, he couldn't recall where he'd dropped the blaster pistol. He just noted his holster was empty.

"We made it," Rose said.

"Ha." Finn gestured at the wall next to the bunk, too tired and hurting to move more than that. He felt faint. "Medpack?"

"Got it." Rose pushed herself away from the wall and pulled down the case. She set it next to him on the bunk and opened it, looking through the implements inside. It was fairly standardized stuff. On some of the specialized medical tech not subject to the New Republic's now-defunct disarmament laws, the First Order bought from the same sources as the rest of the galaxy. She said, "I'm going to wash my hands before I do anything more. And you need to undress."

"Can't you just cut my clothes off me? They're ruined anyway." He didn't know if he was joking or serious. Mainly, the task just felt beyond him.

"They're the only clothes you have," she pointed out. She paused to cup his face and press a gentle, grateful kiss to his forehead. "You _saved_ me."

He looked up at her with a small smile. "I saved what I loved," he said quietly.

She bent to kiss him on the lips, chastely. "I love you," she said just as quietly. It was the first time they'd said those words to one another.

"I love you, too," he said back, even though he'd already said it a different way. He wanted to say it all the ways. But he hurt. He winced as he looked up at her, spots in his back stinging and spots appearing in his vision. Her face was beautiful no matter what. He adored how she looked at him.

"I'll be right back," she promised before going to the refresher. She locked the door to the rear compartment as she passed it so that no one would intrude on them. Finn slumped in her absence. He heard the toilet run. He heard the sink run. He knew he was supposed to be undressing or digging through the medpack. He just couldn't. Over and over, he thought about that simple declaration: 'I love you.' It mattered more than how much his body stung and ached. Someone loved him. _She_ loved him.

It wasn't just Rose. Poe had faced poised blasters for him. It also wasn't just the Resistance. The FN squad that had come for them had basically carried him the rest of the way back, switching between them as needed. There was no discussion of leaving him behind. He mattered – and as more than just a grunt.

Rose came back out, her jacket off and sleeves rolled up to her elbows. She kissed him again and started with his shirt, not complaining about his lack of progress. It only had one arm now, but she opened it normally and he moved enough to shrug it off. He joked, "Okay, okay. I'll get undressed. I didn't know you wanted me naked right away." She giggled. He stood and had to grab the top bunk for balance. "I don't feel so good."

"Finn, they _ate_ part of you. They were trying to eat _all_ of you."

"Did they …" He trailed off, looking down at the ruin of his left thigh where she'd delicately peeled off his pants. He swallowed roughly. Because yes, it didn't just hurt – he was literally missing flesh, excised right off his body, leaving a gouge deep into the muscle. "Well. Now I know why it was so hard to lift my left leg."

"Step up," Rose prompted.

"No," he said. "I literally can't. Not on the left."

"Then I'll lift it for you. Hold on." He held to the top bunk as she removed his boot, sock, and pant leg. They repeated for the other leg, but he was able to raise his right leg by himself. She took down his underwear as well. "There's a place on your … buttock … that's just as bad. And some on your back. Your shin here."

He could see the one on his shin – not deep, but it went to the bone. He'd bled so much that his socks were red and brown, the inside of his boots and the bottoms of his feet were disgustingly moist. He was leaving red footprints on the floor. "Oh no," he breathed out heavily. He was still holding onto the top bunk, with both hands now. "I kept them off my front and my arm. That's mostly where they kept going."

The bandage around his left forearm had been shredded. The flesh wasn't much better, with several bites along it despite his efforts to keep them off.

"They were all over you," Rose said. "You did the right thing, protecting your center." She was going through the medpack now.

"It was also the easiest place to knock them off from. On the good side," Finn said, "officer's transports like this shuttle usually have good medical supplies. Troop transports never do." If they had them at all.

"Yeah. That's the First Order for you," she said glumly. There was a chime at the door as someone trying to enter found it locked.

"We should let people in so they can use the refresher," Finn said.

"You're naked," Rose said like that mattered. She slid shut the door to the bunk area instead. "You can come in now," she called out. She went back to the medpack. "Here, this will help." She held up an instrument that would decontaminate the wounds and prevent infection. She ran it over each one, then came back through with an unguent that should accelerate healing. The final step was a spray-on sealant.

"That stuff's working," Finn said. "I can feel it already. They don't sting."

"You should lie down and get some rest. None of this works if you keep exerting yourself and reopen the wounds."

"You don't have to tell me twice," he mumbled, starting to lie down as she moved the medpack to the floor. Then he caught himself. "Wait, what about you?"

"I'll be alright."

"No, you won't! I mean, you will be, but you're hurt."

"Not as bad as you." But she was taking off her shirt, so he stopped objecting. He retrieved the same instrument she'd used earlier and did a quick check of the settings on it as she undressed. All her cuts were shallower than his, but she still had a dozen bites and slices where they'd definitely been starting on her, prevented from going further only by him grabbing them and yanking them off her. He went through the same medications for her injuries, because like his most of them were on her back and lower legs where it was harder or impossible for her to reach.

There was a knock at their door. "Yeah?"

"It's me," Kaydel's voice came through the partition. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes," Rose answered.

"They've been cooking some of the crab," Kaydel said. "Do you want some?"

The two of them looked at each other, mutually reaching the same decision. Rose answered. "No. We're just going to get some sleep."

"We need to go out," Finn said reluctantly. "We don't get to sleep in here."

"Why not?" Rose asked.

"Rey and Kylo …?"

Rose shook her head, her brows drawn together. "No way. They're fine. We're hurt. _You_ are hurt. No one else is injured. That means we get the beds. That's how it works."

He half expected General Hux or that first sergeant to come in and kick them out at some point, but they never did. Maybe that _was_ how it worked.


	63. The Old Man 4

[The Old Man]

**[Insta-rad = microwave. This is not good advice on how to properly prepare crab. 1) Chewbacca isn't a great cook, and 2) their supplies and setup constrain their cooking options.]**

* * *

"You know," the Old Man said to Teller as she crouched next to the burner, "I've never in my life had the opportunity to shoot a Rebel until today and I didn't do it. Had him in my sights and everything. I had the perfect excuse."

"Couldn't do it?" She poked at the crab meat on the grate. Not being a fatty meat, it was sticking and scorching onto it.

"Oh, I _could_ have. That Dameron guy being between us and saying he'd kill me if I did had something to do with it. A lot to do with it. But, you see- Uh, you're cooking that too hot."

"Fire is fire. I can't change that."

"Yeah, but the grating needs to be higher."

"I can't change that either."

"You're supposed to be cooking it. Not charring it."

Her voice developed an edge. "You're supposed to be giving directions. Not standing around complaining."

"You're the sergeant. I'm only a corporal. It's your job to figure things out."

"You were _ordered_ to supervise. It's _your_ job to tell me how to do this!"

"I _am_ supervising. And I'm telling you to stop burning the food!"

Teller lifted the grate off the fire and set it aside with an exasperated sigh. "This is not working. You said you knew how to cook."

"I know how to cook … stuff, yeah," he said. "But I was a dock worker, not a chef." They both jumped as FN-9037 stun-blasted some bugs which had come too close to their perimeter. H-482's voice turned loud as a sudden tension ran through him, though he did not make any conscious connection between his unease and the blaster-fire. He gestured expansively with one arm and said, "Not _everyone_ from the larger galaxy knows how to do _everything!_"

The Wookiee, who'd earlier helped Finn inside, came over and harrumphed what the Old Man knew meant, "What's going on?"

Still loud, he answered, "I don't know how to cook this stuff like this! The fire's too hot, there's no insta-rad, and I don't want to eat it raw like I saw you doing over there!"

"You understand him?" Teller said in shock.

The Old Man paused, calming down. "Yes. Sometimes." Chewbacca said something longer and incomprehensible. H-482 shook his head and waved a negating hand toward him. "Listen, I know like a handful of common phrases, 'yes', 'no', 'maybe', and some numbers. That's it. Can you show us?"

"Yes," Chewbacca whuffed. He took one of the shallow metal pans that had come in the survival kit and went inside the shuttle. He came back shortly with water in it. He scraped the half-scorched meat off the grate and into the dish, then replaced the grate over the fire (upside down, so the meat that had stuck to the grate wouldn't stick to the pan) and put the pan on top of the grate.

"Oh," the Old Man said. "You boil it." Chewbacca made a bark. "Okay, _we_ boil it. Got it." Then, a whuff. The Wookiee moved over to lean on the side of the ship, watching them.

"So," Teller said, "about that Rebel you didn't shoot. Why not?"

"Well … we're at truce. If that's good enough for General Hux, then that's good enough for me."

"Is that the reason?" Teller stirred the pot with the pair of tongs she'd been using earlier to handle the meat. "I mean, following orders is a good reason, but is it the _real _reason?"

He was silent for a bit, thinking about how he'd hesitated. He hadn't hesitated on Ten-ten. He jumped at another stun-blast from one of the perimeter guards, feeling jittery and unsettled. "Never had to shoot one of my own guys before today either."

Chewbacca made a short, mournful noise.

They both looked at him briefly, but neither of them understood him and no one was handy to translate. Chewie tilted his head to one side, mouth open slightly in what H-482 knew was intended as a friendly gape. Teller went back to stirring the meat in the now-boiling water.

The Old Man said, "I can see it plain in my mind now – how it could have turned out. One of those Rebels could have put a tourniquet on his arm. We could have put him on the repulsor-lift and just piled the meat on top of him. He'd still be alive. Still be useful for some things. Maybe he could learn to cook or keep records or something."

"What's a tourniquet?"

It was a question that said so much about life in the First Order. He thought about all the things she simply didn't know. From what little he'd been able to tell, she was one of the smarter ones. "It's a thing you tie around a limb when it's bleeding real bad. Just tighten it up to slow down the bleeding." Even he knew that, and he was an idiot. He held up his hand, which was missing a finger. "Amputations can be survived."

"That's a finger. Someone missing an arm – they'd get a medical termination for sure."

He shrugged. She was right and she wasn't right at the same time. He offered back, "Someone shooting at their superior officer – you'd think they'd get a blaster termination."

"What?" She looked at him blankly. "Who did that?"

"I'm just saying, it all depends on the person holding the gun." He was silent, thinking about how he'd chosen not to shoot Spots when she turned on him. Later, he'd chosen not to shoot Finn (or Dameron). And he'd chosen not to reprimand DL-1364 or Spots when they didn't fire on Finn after he'd ordered them to. All three of them had hesitated on pulling the trigger – and Finn was alive because of it. "Maybe I'm just getting soft in my old age. How's that meat coming? Let me try some."


	64. Hux 16

[Hux]

* * *

Most of the meat was packed away in the chilled section of the compressor housing, after being tediously washed section by section in the refresher sink. That was a job for stormtroopers and Hux was glad they were there to be delegated to.

The task of cooking what was left initially went to H-482 and the sergeant of FN squad. It was later reassigned to Rey, Kaydel, and Chewbacca after H-482 was ordered to shower for having smeared himself with bug guts and dirt as some kind of survival tactic. (Yes, Hux knew it was an attempt at camouflage, but it was still disgusting. He was repulsed that one of his stormtroopers even considered such a thing, much less did it – and apparently at the first opportunity. It was a bizarre deviation worth being noted in the trooper's record.)

Chewbacca was a questionable cook. He ate plenty raw and before they'd even completed the scans to make sure the stuff was edible. Hux suspected the one meal bar he'd been allotted (and had not, as far as Hux knew, complained about) had been insufficient for his caloric needs. It was another reason not to have aliens in your core crew, but Hux had what he had. He had to admit that for a hungry Wookiee, Chewbacca had been astonishingly polite and hard-working. He supposed that was why they had been preferred as slaves in the Empire.

Tico and Finn had disappeared into the rear compartment much earlier, since that was where the medpack was. Three of the four surviving stormtroopers who'd initially been sent out were out of their armor and taking up floor space, thoroughly exhausted. The last was the corporal, who had returned outside after his shower, to mill around in an uneasy manner telling his life story to anyone who wasn't actively ignoring him. That pinged Hux's senses as 'wrong', but he couldn't put his finger on why. From what he could see, CL-0745 had taken notice of it, so he left personnel management to her. It was, after all, the job of a first sergeant.

His job was the bigger strategic picture and overall leadership. The most important part of that was regaining mobility and intelligence – mobility in the form of flight potential, intelligence in the form of communications and sensors. Hux took a quick turn around the wing section with a light, checking its condition. He really couldn't say anything about it except that it was here. Everyone with any talent for doing anything with it was out of commission or busy. There was another spate of stun-blasters on the bugs. Given the delicacy of the reattachment operation, attempting it now would be a poor decision. The next day would be better, when they were rested and the native fauna less threatening.

He hadn't seen much of Poe, though. And he was pretty much out of things to do unless he wanted to eat boiled crab, which likely sounded wonderful to someone, but not to him. He searched the place again, finding the pilot in the main compartment, doing the same as the stormtroopers who had returned and getting some rest. Poe had propped himself in the corner on the sleeping mat, his legs extended and with his head resting against the join of the walls. He looked up at Hux with barely-open eyes.

Hux regarded him. From what he'd gathered, Poe had spent the entire march back pushing the wing, doing the same physical exertion as the Wookiee and the burly Abednedo. He'd managed to escape injury (all of them had, except Tico and Finn … and of course the dead trooper), but he was more wrung out than most. Poe patted the sleeping mat next to him in invitation.

Hux made one dry laugh and sat beside him, knees drawn up. He rested his head against the wall. He wasn't feeling too hot himself. He'd barely slept the night before and he'd stayed active all day. Even if his exertion and danger hadn't been close to that of the wing-retrieval team, he'd stayed awake and informed as the night wore on, leaving the comm channel open as he studied the shuttle schematics and occasionally watched the feed from the helmets. After the second incident, he'd woke the rest and sent out the FN squad.

He _was_ sleepy. He wasn't sure he _wanted_ to sleep even now – not if he was going to have the same frustrating, horrific series of dreams as the night before. He knew he _needed_ to sleep, though. The warm smell of cooking meat and burning thruster fuel wafted through the compartment. He'd given all his orders. He didn't need to do anything else. Poe wasn't offering conversation. His shoulder was resting against Hux's. Hux wasn't even sure if Poe was still awake. Hux shut his eyes. Just for a moment.


	65. Lady 5

[Lady]

* * *

"And that's when they disowned me," the Old Man said. "None of you know what it's like! You didn't even have families. What would you do if the whole First Order told you you were a filthy traitor, huh?" H-482 gestured expansively with the hand that wasn't holding his second bowl, in the uncoordinated manner of one who was drunk. "How 'bout we go in and ask that guy in there? Huh? I'll bet he knows!"

CL-0745 was standing there silently, head cocked, watching him. His diction had shifted. She could hear some of the Outer Rim twang in his accent, but wasn't familiar enough with the rest to place it. It wasn't the way people sounded when they'd grown up in the Order, that was for sure. There was no way he was drunk. Punch-drunk, maybe, from exhaustion, but she'd never seen anyone this active in such a state. He acted wound up. She really wasn't sure _what_ she was looking at here.

He was loud. Everyone out here was listening to him. Even the closest guard had turned to watch him instead of his quadrant. She needed to stop this. "Old Man, are you going to finish your food or just wave it around?"

"It tastes funny."

The Wookiee made a noise she suspected was a laugh. It actually sounded like he'd literally said, "Har har." It was enough to make her wonder if he could speak Basic if he tried.

Teller's indication of mirth was more recognizable – a few quick shakes of her shoulders and a sway side to side. Kaydel and FL-2216 were more subdued, with a snort from Kaydel and nothing from FL-2216. Teller said to him, "After how much you said you were looking forward to this stuff?"

"What's wrong with it?" CL-0745 had had her portion. She knew what it tasted like, which was like nothing else she'd ever eaten. It had a metallic bite to it that the sensors confirmed. The stuff wasn't healthy to eat long term, but if the wing worked, they needn't worry. Short term, it would fill their bellies. She didn't think they had enough meal bars to feed everyone even one more meal. It was also tough and chewy, which was a struggle the Resistance people didn't seem to share. They weren't as accustomed to processed foods.

"I dunno," H-482 said. "It's plain. It needs some golderoil and salt. Hey, wait, does that survival kit have salt tabs?"

"If I get you some, you'd better finish eating," CL-0745 grumbled as she went up the ramp. "General's orders."

Behind her, she heard Teller ask, "What's golderoil?" and get the answer from H-482, "It's flower oil." Which only prompted, "What's flower oil?" and then from H-482, "It's like basin oil. You don't know what basin oil is either, do you?"

CL-0745 didn't hear the rest. She carefully edged around the sleeping form of DL-8192 to access the survival kit, then dug through it for the little first aid pack that came with it. It wasn't much of a first aid pack, including gauze, tape, a wrap or two, and a couple tubes of ointment. But it came with several types of pills – for purifying water, combating radiation poisoning, supplementing for vitamins, and providing basic minerals. Which was where the salt came in. She located the packet.

She made the slightest gesture to close the pack before noticing something. She picked up the stims container instead. There were two to a cartridge. There was only one in this one. The other was missing – the seal cracked on the plastoid and the vial missing. Her cheeks tightened in a grimace as she knew why H-482 was still awake and acting so odd. If he'd dosed himself at dark, then the stuff would be wearing off about now. And while he'd be crashing into exhaustion soon enough, post-dose jitters and peculiar behavior were normal enough that even CL-0745 had heard of it.

(It helped that her squad did internal security and dealt with substance abuse more often than any front-line combat troop would ever need to bother with.)

She put the stim cartridge back and returned the survival pack to the cabinet. It occurred to her that before she rushed to accusation, there _was_ another option – someone else who had been unsurveilled and awake for a very long time. She looked over at where General Hux was sitting side by side with Commander Dameron, both of them on the same sleeping mat.

(Hers, incidentally. She'd put it off to the side to keep it out of the way after the Jedi quit using it, but someone had swiped it. Dameron, she assumed. She wasn't sure where the other one had gone.) Dameron had slumped over with his head on Hux's shoulder. Hux's head was lolled back in slumber. Their eyes were shut. So … not awake anymore.

But.

The general had declined dinner the night before. Suppressed appetite was a normal side effect of stimulant use. He'd then stayed up all night on overwatch. It let everyone else get some sleep, which was a big help when activated later. CL-0745 and Kaydel had stayed up with him for most of an hour, before he ordered them both out so he could better focus on how to repair the shuttle. It wasn't the same degree of extraordinary effort that the Old Man had put in, but he shouldn't be discounted as a suspect.

At least he was resting now – with the Resistance pilot leaning against him, possibly drooling on him. Yet General Hux had sought him out. He hadn't rested until they were back. His agitation, she realized, didn't have anything to do with stims after all.

She headed back outside and made for a direct confrontation with H-482 after handing over the salt tabs. "Did you take one of the stim doses last night?"

"Stims?"

"Don't play dumb."

"No. Huh-uh." He crumbled the salt tab over his bowl and stayed very focused on it.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Lying to your superior officer is a far bigger offense than taking controlled substances without authorization. You were told to prepare the packs." Which could be argued was 'authorization', although even then he should have told her.

"Um. Yeah. I did." He looked confused and uncertain. Like he was desperately trying to think and failing. It reminded her of that second lieutenant they'd busted who reeked of death-stick smoke, trying to pull her drug-addled wits together enough to think of a good excuse for the stench. "But, uh, not, not lying," he said. "I wasn't playing dumb."

"Ah. The technicality defense," she said in disapproval. "I wouldn't have expected that of you." He hunched a little. She went on, "Finish your food and rack out in five, or I'll ask you the direct question again. Got it?"

He straightened, realizing she was giving him an out. "Sir. Yes sir!"

She rolled her eyes at the sir sandwich and turned to Teller and Flag. "Start cleaning up. Smother the fire." She turned to the perimeter guard who was still allowing himself to be distracted by them. She snapped at him, "Private, eyes on your quadrant!"

"Yes sir." FN-9048 jerked around and faced the right way.

Behind her, she heard the musical sound of Kaydel laughing. She turned to see the woman collecting up plates and heading in. Kaydel shot her a friendly smile that made the back of CL-0745's scalp itch in a weird, creeping pleasure, like getting a compliment that embarrassed you. She turned back to her squad and said gruffly, "Perimeter guards, pull it in."


	66. Poe 5

[Poe]

* * *

Poe woke to the sound of blaster fire. He jerked up, same as two of the three previously sleeping stormtroopers. C'ai grumbled on the other side of the room, but stayed asleep. That they were only stun charges filtered through his mind and kept him from doing any more than blinking around the compartment. Someone had dimmed the lights at some point to maybe half or thirty percent.

He'd heard shots earlier, before he'd fallen asleep, but these last had seemed much closer. A quick head count showed too many troopers were inside for there to be a full perimeter outside. He started to worry about that, but then heard CL-0745's voice from outside, steady and unexcited. "Okay. That's enough. Take it in."

Unhurried boots sounded against the ramp as a couple troopers brought in the remains of the cooking effort. They were followed by Kaydel and Chewbacca, then CL-0745 came up walking backwards, blaster at the ready as she kept her attention on the bottom of the ramp. Her posture still didn't read as concerned to him; she was just being practical. She closed the ramp, sealing them in for whatever remained of the night.

Poe slumped back down. Hux was curled in a fetal ball on the sleeping pad next to him, having fallen over on his side at some point. Poe had done the same. His face had been smushed against the small of Hux's back. He didn't want to go back to the same position. His neck already hurt.

He nudged Hux. "Scoot over a little."

"What?" It came out high pitched and breathy, heavy with fear. Hux stayed very still.

"Scoot over," Poe said, softer and more quietly as he leaned in. "We can share the pad if we're friendly."

"Oh."

"There." Poe pointed and gestured around Hux's body, so the man could see where he was indicating. "Move over there." Hux moved, glancing around furtively, but no one was paying them any attention. The two stormtroopers who'd woke up at the sound of blasters had gone right back to sleep. Everyone else was busy doing their own thing, which looked to Poe to include discussing watch order and taking off armor prior to getting some rest. He assumed if they wanted him to stand watch, they'd wake him up when it was his turn. In the meantime, he was done in.

Poe adjusted position, scooting up to where if they had been touching more, one would say they were spooning. But Poe didn't go that far. He just got roughly in position, then patted Hux's elbow a couple times before putting his arm along his own side. "Just go back to sleep. It's okay." Hux was quiet for a few beats, then sighed in resignation and followed orders.

Poe was fully aware he'd be wrapped around the general by morning.

XXX

"No."

It was breathy and faint, but Poe heard it. He felt Hux jerk in his arms. He felt the man's breath stutter. "Hux?"

"No …" It was still a low, quiet sound, but this time it sounded so terrified it was pitiable.

"Hux?" He squeezed him with the arm looped around Hux's waist, pulling them even closer – not just flush, but pressed together. "Hux?" Hux jerked harder, but woke. His hands scrambled at Poe's arm in alarm, like he was trying to force it off him. Poe lifted it immediately. "Easy, easy."

Hux froze, barely breathing for several long moments. Poe kept his arm up and out from Hux's body, clearly visible. The lights were still at thirty percent or whatever. He heard Hux swallow. Then he reached up and took Poe's hand, replacing it over his belly. A few breaths later, Hux let go to cover his face with his hands.

Poe told him, "It was just a nightmare."

He turned in place, shaking. "I fear it wasn't." Hux fumbled hesitantly at Poe's side and arm.

Poe enveloped him. "You're okay now."

Hux shook his head, chin hooked over Poe's shoulder. His voice, though a whisper, was still trembling and so was the rest of him. "He wanted me to reveal myself. He's searching for me. It won't stop."

Poe pulled back, dread running through him. Hux looked tired and miserable. Poe pitched his voice louder to say, "Rey? Kylo-"

"No!" Hux hissed, pulling away from him. "I did not tell you so you could tell _them_!"

"Hugs, it- I'm-"

But it was too late. Rey was awake, Kylo following her. With Rose and Finn in the rear compartment, the pair had bedded down out here with the rest of them. "What is it?" Rey said. A few of the stormtroopers had awakened, too. Chewbacca rolled over to look in their direction. A side effect of the lights being up was that, well, everyone could see them.

Hux sat up and moved nearly out of reach, curling himself up with his back to the wall and shoulders hunched. He wrapped his arms around his knees. It was physically painful to Poe to see him withdraw, when he knew the man was hurting, when he'd been in his arms just moments before.

"Nothing," Poe said, his voice coming out choked. "It's nothing."

"Lights to fifty percent," Rey said, coming closer and taking care not to step on anyone along the way. Hux glared up at her like a trapped animal, teeth partly bared. She turned her focus to Poe.

Poe sat up and waved a dismissive hand at her. "It's nothing. I told you."

"Something happened," she said definitely. Kylo walked up behind her.

"Uh …" Poe stalled, "nothing I was supposed to talk about. Apparently."

She sighed and looked at Hux, who was continuing to glare at her, but with a little less fervor now. He said nothing. She looked at the wall above Poe's head. "Poe Dameron would let me know if this was critical, wouldn't he?"

Poe answered, "Poe Dameron would definitely let you know _if_ he was absolutely sure it was critical. Right now all Poe is sure of is that he betrayed someone's trust. And he's very, _very_ sorry about that." He glanced over at Hux, who stopped glaring at anyone and huffed sulkily while looking at the floor.

Rey looked at Kylo, then Hux, then Poe. "Okay." She accepted it. Rey moved back to where they'd been sleeping.

Hux stood and jerked at his uniform to straighten it. "I'm going to stand guard." He went to the door, opened it, and ordered out the stormtrooper within. Poe picked himself up from the floor. His shoulders, back, butt, and thighs hurt from pushing that wing. So did his neck, but that was due to the sleeping position. He stretched.

Rey, from where she was sitting, spread her hands as though inviting Poe to speak now that Hux had put a soundproof door between them. Poe shook his head. First off, he was sure Hux could activate an intercom or even a visual feed of the main compartment. Secondly, it was the principle of the thing.

Third, if the fate of the galaxy was going to come down to Hux deciding whether he wanted to side with Darth Sidious or the rest of them, then they'd better damn well step up and help Hux understand they were worth saving. That meant being trustworthy. Poe was a little perplexed no one else seemed to see this when it was clear as deepest space to him. (And Hux was hot, which was also clear as deepest space, but he hoped that didn't have too much to do with his decisions.)

He sighed and hit the button for the hatch. Hux had taken the co-pilot's seat. Kaydel was inside as the Resistance watch. "You again?" Poe said to her. "Is this still first watch?" A little slow on the uptake, he noticed the sun had risen.

"Yeah. The end of it, almost."

"Two hours of sleep, then. No wonder I feel spent. I'll stand the next watch. Hit the sack."

"Poe, we decided earlier to skip everyone who went out, other than Chewbacca. He said he'd take the last one. I _did_ get some sleep last night."

He rubbed his face. "Well, I'm going to be in here for a while. Vamoose."

She shot a concerned look at Hux, who was fixedly staring out the viewport, acting like they weren't there. At least this time, Poe thought, no one would think they were in here having sex. She stood up, ceding the chair to him. "Technically," Kaydel said, "Rey's next and she starts in ten minutes."

"Who's next on our side?" Hux asked. "My … the First Order side."

"I don't know. It was one of the FNs. Like I said, C-L, 0-7-45," she struggled over the designation but got it out correctly, "decided to let the people who were out all day get some rest. You didn't sleep, either."

"I'm fine," Hux said. "I'll pick one of them when I'm done."

Kaydel left without further comment. The hatch shut behind her. Hux slumped. He was still willing to be vulnerable in front of Poe, which was warming. Poe said, "I didn't tell them."

"That's very kind of you." He didn't look up. Given the events of the previous day, the 'I'm fine' sounded suspiciously like the 'Fit for duty' declaration the stormtrooper had had after their corporal had killed Ten-ten. Hux was a general, yes, but until only two weeks ago, he'd had superiors who notoriously didn't tolerate weakness. He wouldn't have reached his position if he'd ever confessed to any problem.

Poe moved to his side and put his hand on Hux's shoulder. He rubbed gently, then leaned down to give him a lingering but entirely chaste kiss on his hair, on the side of his head. He smelled good. He must have showered while Poe was out. Hux turned and looked up at him wonderingly, his eyes darting between Poe's eyes and lips. Poe remembered the way he'd looked at his lips before, but this time there was no one here to see them.

Poe slowly cupped Hux's face with both hands, tilting his own head and leaning in. He'd seen what he'd thought he'd seen and he knew it, because Hux's lips parted and he straightened, reaching up with his face to meet Poe. Their lips met softly, carefully, warm and delicious.

Hux swiveled his chair and stood, reversing their heights but only briefly parting from Poe's mouth in the process. He came back to it immediately, the kiss turning desperate as Hux clung to him, half-frantic, like he would take whatever he could get as fast as he could get it. Poe provided freely as they continued kissing. Hux gradually settled down, his breathing evening out, but he didn't stop the lip-lock.

Poe ran his hands into the man's hair, across his face and down his neck. Hux copied him, following a step behind. He was a fast learner. Poe hummed appreciatively, licking at Hux's lips, tongues touching.

They finally parted, Hux panting, staying only a few inches from Poe's face. Hux ran a thumb across Poe's considerable stubble, but his thoughts were obviously elsewhere. "He was in my nightmares the first night, too." Hux grimaced. "He said … he said … He had prisoners, captured from the _Finalizer_, maybe other ships, I don't know. He was torturing and killing them one at a time, telling them to call out to me and if I answered, they'd live." He shuddered.

Poe shuddered as well. "That's awful." He assumed Hux meant Darth Sidious.

Hux breathed out shakily, moving his hand up to the side of Poe's head, his thumb stroking Poe's temple. He pinched up the finer hair there and fondled it. "Some called. Most didn't. Some barely knew me. He knew I could feel it. I could … feel … what he did to them." He swallowed. "I was hiding … behind a … a wall or a curtain. I don't know. But he looked right at me. He knew I was there. He wanted me to come forward. He wanted _me_ to do it. To act and make him my master."

"Did you?"

"No!" Hux shook his head and gave him a look like Poe was nuts for thinking he might.

"And tonight? The same thing?"

"No. It was just him. He was hunting me. Or … I don't know. It was dark and I was hiding from him, but I could hear his voice calling to me, telling me to reveal myself, that 'long had he waited for this day' and 'our coming together would be the galaxy's undoing' or some pompous dreck."

Poe chuckled a couple times. Like Hux could talk. He supposed he knew where Hux had inherited his flair for the dramatic from. "And you didn't reveal yourself … either?"

"No. Of course not. I'm not an idiot. If it's a true sending through the Force, then it means he doesn't know where we are and he wants that information. If it's just a bad dream, then there's no reason to tell him anyway." He exhaled heavily. "I wonder if he's killed all the people I saw last night?"

"I don't know."

Hux spoke as though to himself, eyes sightless as he toyed with Poe's curls. "If he knew I was there, then he knows when I'm _not_ there. And he wouldn't keep killing them while I'm gone. He would preserve them, in case he needed to use them in a later ploy against me."

Hux blinked, focusing on Poe. Hux kissed him again, sudden and passionate, with that same clingy desperation. Poe allowed it, answered it, and kissed him back deeply, holding Hux's head to press them together, huffing against his cheek and tasting him thoroughly. Hux moaned at the end of it, pulling away to pant.

Poe smirked, pleased with the reception. While he had a moment to talk, though, he said, "You know, Rey and Kylo have a lot of experience between them dealing with Force stuff. More than I do, at least. They might know how to make it stop."

"The last thing I want is to have another Force user poking around in my brain."

"Ah. Okay, that makes sense." He wondered if they'd recovered their connection to the Force while he was gone.

Hux kissed him teasingly, pulling away when Poe tried to take his head again. Poe took the hint and dropped his arms, wrapping them around Hux's body instead. Poe stroked his back. Hux cupped the back of Poe's head and kissed him fleetingly a few times more, experimenting with different techniques. Poe hummed encouragingly, "Mmm."

"Yes," Hux said softly, kissing him again. Hux's hand dropped down his neck, rubbing slightly.

"Oh yes," Poe purred. "Keep doing that. You have no idea how stiff my neck is."

"Oh really?" Hux rubbed more, enthusiastic and willing even if inexpert at it.

Poe groaned and let his head loll forward so his forehead rested on Hux's chest.

"It would help if I could get some decent sleep," Hux grumbled, continuing with his efforts. It was one of the lousier massages Poe had ever had, but he wasn't about to complain.

"They might be able to arrange that, too."

"You're going to tell them anyway," Hux accused. "Now that you're 'absolutely sure' and it's critical."

"No." Poe raised his head and gave Hux a peck on the lips. Hux was impassive for the moment. He really was expecting betrayal, which was precisely what could drive him into Palpatine's hands. "If you tell me you have it under control," Poe told him, "then you have it under control."

Hux exhaled heavily. "I do not," he admitted as though it pained him.

"Then would you let me ask my friends for help? I'll make sure they know – no Force powers, no poking around in your head. Just talking."

Hux kissed him again, softly, repeatedly, scraping his thumbnails against Poe's stubble as he did. When he drew back, he said, "Yes. Fine."

"Okay. Is right now okay?" It was either that or fuck on the consoles and as sexy as Poe found Hux to be, he was very aware most of the kissing was begging for connection, affection, and support. Not: please fuck me now. The majority of what people said wasn't verbal. Poe was at peace with that. Hux was communicating just fine.

"Yes."

"Okay." Poe smooched him again spontaneously and loudly before turning away. He opened the hatch and poked his head out. The lights had been dimmed again, but Rey was still awake, sitting cross-legged next to Kylo like they'd been talking. Poe didn't speak. He just gestured – two fingers, his hand turned to point those two fingers at them, then 'come here'. Kylo and Rey both rose. The door shut behind them when they were inside.

For a long moment, the four of them stood there silently. Hux looked lost in thought. Rey and Kylo looked expectant. Poe looked back at Hux again. His hair was sticking out in all directions, his cheeks and forehead were pinked, and his lips were still wet and plump from all the kissing. He had to hope Rey and Kylo didn't notice this, but the long silence argued against that. "So, um, who talks first? You talk first? I talk first?" He was talking to Hux, but he glanced over to Kylo to see if he caught the joke.

Kylo rolled his eyes in confirmation. Hux said, "You."

"Okay." Poe turned to the other two. "First night here he had a Force vision or a projection or something. Seemed like a nightmare. Sidious was torturing and then killing the people in the First Order whom he thought had a connection to Hux. Told them to call out for Hux. Some did. Hux didn't respond. Tonight, it was Sidious telling him to reveal himself. No torture this time. He – Hux – says it felt like Palps was searching for him."

"Did he find you?" Kylo asked softly.

Hux shook his head.

Rey asked, "Did it feel like he was _close_ to finding you?"

Hux said, "I'm not entirely sure what that would feel like."

Rey said, "Did you wake up because he had finally found you? Or was about to?"

"No," Hux answered. "I woke up because Poe woke me."

"That's good," Kylo said.

"Oh," Poe put in, "and don't use Force powers. Like, not now. He doesn't want you to."

"Right," Rey said after an awkward pause that told Poe that wasn't an option anyway. She looked back to Hux. "Was he looking for anyone else? Did he … threaten anyone else, anyone here?"

"No," Hux said. "I don't think he knows where we are or who I'm with. If he did, his questions would have been more specific and he would have pretended to know more than he did. It seemed like he was mainly trying to get me to respond." He swallowed. "I've been through this game before. The only winning move is not to play. Now that I know who I'm dealing with, I know better."

Rey turned to Kylo. "What if he doesn't know we're here? There's no reason why he would. Any footage or scanner records of us showing up would have been lost with the _Finalizer_." She turned to Hux. "The stormtroopers with you. You said they're your personal guard?"

He shook his head. "I was being facetious. I encountered them by chance in the halls as we were headed to the hangar bay. They're not connected to me in any way, aside from serving on the _Finalizer_. Their absence will not be noted."

Rey nodded and turned back to Kylo. "All he knows is that General Hux isn't dead. It might be safe for us to … tap in."

"If we're wrong," Kylo said, "he shows up here and we're trapped on the ground. The hyperdrive engines are functional, but we have to get out of the gravity well to use them. Until we can do that, we should play it safe."

"That's fine," Hux said, "but how do I sleep?" Kylo and Rey just looked at him, so he added, "Can he do this constantly? Or does he need to rest? Is he trying even now? If he can't get to me while I sleep, is he going to inflict hallucinations while I'm awake?"

Kylo shook his head slightly. "He can't do it constantly, but the Force will guide him on the best times. It is … unlikely to happen while you're awake unless you intentionally open yourself to him, or call out to him. He's a stranger to you and that is to your benefit."

"I'm sure it is," Hux said.

Poe said, "As far as sleep, can I just wake him up when he's having that nightmare, we wait a few minutes, and then go back to sleep? Will that break it?"

"That sounds awful," Hux said.

"Well, I was thinking of it as a good excuse to sleep with you and maybe nibble on your ears. But if you don't want to …"

Hux blushed again. "Well, um." He reached up and touched an ear, looking down and finding no further words to accompany the gesture.

Kylo said, "It will help."

"Okay then," Poe said. He turned to Hux. "You want to give that a try?" Hux gave a noncommittal shrug. Poe pointed briefly at Rey as she started to leave. "Hang on there. Aren't you next up on standing watch?"

Hux interrupted. "I don't want to go back to sleep yet. I want to talk. With you." Hux glanced at Kylo and Rey, who took their cues and left, shutting the door behind them.


	67. Hux 17

[Hux]

* * *

"I won't really nibble on your ears," Poe teased after the door shut behind the Force users. "Not unless you want me to."

The flirting hit a bit of a false note with Hux. But only because he wasn't sure what Poe was up to with all of this. He covered his face with one hand. It seemed past time to find out, especially if he were confiding what was going on in his head and they were strategizing how to deal with Sidious.

"Hugs?" Poe sounded uneasy.

"Tell me why you're intimate with me."

"What?"

"Why do you like me?"

Poe's silence led Hux to raise his head and look at him. Poe's expression had turned sober. "I'm not going to _justify_ liking you – not to you, not to anyone. I will _prove_ it. I will _show_ it. And I do like you, but there's no 'why' more than there has been for anyone else in my life."

Hux's eyes narrowed slightly. His gaze did not waver. Poe seemed honest (and possibly a little offended), but it didn't give Hux any understanding of the situation. Was he dissembling and Hux just wasn't seeing it? Hux was trying his best to read into this, just as he'd been required to all his life.

Poe said, "Do you want me to list the things I like _about_ you?"

Hux didn't know if that would help, but it might. "Please do."

"I like your finicky personality. I like your diligence. I like your intelligence. I like your looks. I like the challenge you pose."

Hux snorted in disbelief. "I would have thought this was the easiest seduction you'd ever had. Are you telling me you've had simpler?"

Poe smiled. "You have been the most surprising – a good surprise. You have challenged my preconceptions, let's put it that way." He moved over to the door, raising one arm to lean against the frame, his weight mostly on one leg. His expression shifted to discomfort for a moment and he moved a little, flexing or stretching in place. He was nicely muscular, Hux couldn't help noticing. He wondered why Poe hadn't ended up in one of those fake First Order uniforms. Not that he minded. He liked him better this way – no disguise.

Poe resumed. "I like the way you trust me. I like how much you seem to need me and how much opportunity I have to help you. I like how much you like me. I was telling the truth last night – I've never had anyone fall for me like I think you have."

Hux gave a small smile. He wanted to argue he hadn't fallen for Poe. He wanted to point out he was in complete control of what passed as their relationship and could end it the moment Poe made a false move. He was, in fact, interrogating Poe this very moment on his motives, in Hux's ship, on Hux's terms. But saying none of that would help. He wasn't even sure it was true. "Go on."

Poe's smile turned into a smirk. He left the door to saunter to Hux. "I like the way you taste. I like the way you feel in my arms." He put his hands on Hux's elbows. Hux straightened involuntarily, his skin prickling so nicely. He wanted more, immediately. He was breathing faster, just from the way Poe had walked over.

Poe's hands slid up his arms and Hux shivered. Poe's voice turned husky. "I like the way you sound, the way you touch me back. I know that you're level-headed and hard as nails, but you _want_ me and that is so, _so_ good." Poe kissed him and Hux couldn't stand it anymore. This … interrogation had gone off the rails.

He kissed back and they made out until he was even more ridiculously disheveled and Poe was grinning against his skin. His tunic was half-open (he'd opened it; Poe seemed oddly diffident about undressing him) and his upper chest had been as thoroughly kissed as his mouth. He was sitting on the flat part of the console where the holoprojector sat, his legs wrapped around Poe's hips and hooked behind his thighs. Neither of them had touched below the waist but he was aching. More than once, Poe had rolled his hips as though trying to find the right friction, but given the level of the console, he'd be fucking the hard counter if anything. Poe had not persisted.

Hux played with Poe's hair as they calmed down. He had not explicitly told Poe this was as far as he wanted to go, but Poe either understood anyway, or agreed. "What do you intend to get out of this?" Hux asked.

"I don't know," Poe said, his voice heavy with tiredness and maybe the unresolved desire. His head was tucked against Hux's chest at the moment, beard bristle scratching against his skin as Poe spoke. "A friend. A partner? Whatever you feel is right."

"If Palpatine had never been part of the equation, what would you expect after we escaped from here? Would you expect me to let all of you go to return to the Resistance and keep fighting us?"

Poe moved his head against Hux's hand, which had stopped moving after asking the question. He went back to petting Poe's hair. Poe said, "Well, that would be n- no, that wouldn't be nice. I guess in that very hypothetical situation, I'd want to see if there was some way to work things out so we weren't fighting each other."

Poe lifted away enough to see Hux's face. Poe said, "Maybe I could stay on and we could talk something out. There has to be some common ground here. You guys are …" He shrugged. "You're not machines. You're not sadists. You have goals – some of which I can get behind. You have your good traits, even as an institution."

"Some of us _are_ sadists."

Poe rolled his eyes a little. "Listen, I'm sure you noticed not all your stormtroopers came back." Hux nodded. "The corporal shot one of them. I guess for having the bad luck to get injured. But I stopped him later when he wanted to shoot Finn for the same thing. And he _stopped_. The First Order doesn't have to keep doing what it's already done. Hosnia's gone. The New Republic is gone. Hells, the _Empire_ is gone. Whatever happens next, I want to be part of that with you."

"Ah. So. For political advantage?"

"No, I'm just saying I'd rather stay here and work something out than go back to fighting you. Especially now that I know for a fact we can be civil. Or even, as you said … intimate." Poe tickled his side where he'd wormed his hand under Hux's shirt.

Hux swallowed and squirmed, running his heel along the back of Poe's thigh. "But. That is all, as you said, very hypothetical. What will happen then when …" Hux glanced up, thinking about the sky, the stars, Sidious. He changed course slightly. "Ren is convinced Sidious will find me, isn't he?"

"Yeah." Poe's voice was low, like he didn't like admitting this.

"And I know my father. He wouldn't have been looking for me in the first place unless I was of use to him. That use likely hasn't stopped. What does he need me for? It can't be sentiment or any desire for legacy. Not if Brendol was his clone. This is practical."

"I … don't really know."

It seemed unlikely that Poe was telling the truth. He wasn't a bad liar – he just wasn't a good one. Rather than call him on it, Hux laid out what he knew: "I'm his son. He wants to possess me. Not in a parental manner, but as a," that was when it came to him; the implications of Ren and Rey's words earlier that day, "as a vessel. That's why he made the clones in the first place, isn't it? Brendol … they'd all be dead now. I wonder if after his own death, he can't make new ones? Or maybe he's unwilling to wait the years it would take to mature one when I'm available?"

Poe raised his brows and pursed his lips as though some part of that wasn't something he'd considered before. Hux went on speculating, "If he is as certain as Ren is, then it explains why he didn't hold back in the ambush. He had to have been there himself. Everything that could have possibly gone wrong for me, did. While everything worked perfectly for him. That's the Force at work. But now he can't find me – not without my help."

"Um … yeah, that makes sense."

Hux looked off to the side. "He must want me alive and intact. We should be able to leverage that, somewhat. But if I threatened suicide, he'd simply call me on it." Hux turned his eyes on Poe. "If this is the situation, then why are you trying to gain my affections? All you need do is kill me."

Poe opened his mouth and failed to find words. He tried a second time with the same lack of success. Clearly, killing him wasn't a new idea.

"I can't imagine it's pity, that you think I shouldn't die virgin. This won't prevent him from trying to acquire me. Nor will it make me any more eager to stay out of his clutches."

"It won't?" Poe obviously thought a great deal of his own attractiveness, but he misunderstood Hux's situation.

"Do you think I will deliver myself to him willingly?" Hux's voice rose in disbelief. "Under _any_ conditions?"

Poe shrugged helplessly.

"Truly? Is that your motivation, to be a better option?" His voice stayed shrill, but he didn't move. They were still nearly in one another's arms. "You fear that I have nothing else to live for and would let him end me upon request?" Poe shook his head and put up his hands in surrender, but Hux went on without giving him an opportunity to speak. "He is not my commanding officer. He's not even my father and _I killed __**him**__!_"

Hux was expecting a reaction to that – disgust, disdain, something. Not what Poe said, utterly straight: "Yeah, I knew that."

"What?"

"You had Phasma poison him with a Parnassos beetle."

"You know that?" Hux was hurriedly trying to recall exactly what he'd told Poe the night before, sitting on that log and eating a meal bar. He didn't think he'd confessed explicitly and he was certain he hadn't mentioned the beetle or Phasma.

"Yeah, I know that."

"Oh. Well. I … commend the Resistance's intelligence-gathering efforts." Did everyone in the Resistance know that? If so, how long until the First Order did?

"Yeah, thanks."

He shook it off. Poe didn't seem to care, anyway. "In any case, I am not going to capitulate to Sidious' demands. So you need not cultivate a relationship with me on that account."

"Got it. But I want to cultivate one just because."

Hux swallowed, feeling like his balance had shifted, or his stomach lurched. One of those. Maybe he should have eaten last night after all. "With me?" His voice squeaked a little.

"With you." Poe's fingers moved on his side.

Hux squirmed again, but his brows drew together in confusion. "For all the stars … I still have to ask _why_?"

Poe grinned widely and it was such a sight to behold. "You keep blushing when I tell you how handsome you are! How beautiful I think your hair is. How soft your skin is. How much I like looking at your eyes."

Hux rolled his eyes, but he could feel his skin heating. He exhaled heavily. And blinked. His eyes were … burning.

"Exactly," Poe said, grinning wider. "Right there." He reached up and touched Hux's cheek, which made it feel like every hair on the back of his neck stood up along with the heat in his face intensifying. Poe was staring at him like he was the most wonderful thing in the galaxy.

Hux swallowed, sniffed, and tried to gather his wits. "If we were to … somehow … get, or stay, together, you know my responses will fade." He shook his head at Poe's foolishness.

"Maybe that one," Poe said with a throaty rumble. "I'll find others."

Hux found himself shifting his hips in sudden arousal, with an intensity he hadn't felt … maybe ever. He hopped down from the console, finally, and closed his tunic. Poe took a couple steps back, giving him space. Hux spoke as properly as he could manage, "We should … actually stand watch. Sit. And look at the scanners. It's possible this planet has intelligent life that simply hasn't approached us yet. They could do it," he took his seat and looked out the window pointedly, "tonight."

"Uh-huh," Poe said, the smirk audible in his voice. But he went to his seat as suggested.


	68. Sidious 3

[Sidious]

* * *

"I know you can hear me."

There was, unsurprisingly, no answer. But he could sense he was being heard. That was better than the previous attempts he'd made this night, most of which had been rebuffed by wakefulness. The man didn't sleep very much. But at the moment, Armitage was at rest, his mind open and receptive.

"Your powers, though they lie dormant, are considerable. It is their latent strength that has allowed you to persevere these many years and rise to the position of authority you achieved."

Still no answer. Still being heard.

"When we meet, I will help you develop these abilities so that you may surpass even your escaped rival, Kylo Ren."

He felt some tang of curiosity, gone as soon as it surfaced. He assumed it was interest in harnessing the Force, which was mostly a lie on Sidious' part. Or at least an exaggeration.

"The First Order is no more. It blazed in triumph for such a sadly short time. My rule lasted decades and will span centuries, perhaps even millennia. I have perfected the procedure, but it is nothing without a collaborator to enact it. It could be _our_ rule. We will call it … the Final Order!"

Hm. Nothing.

"It was the destruction of the Hosnian system that woke me," he whispered now, stretching out his feelings, reaching and straining to catch any nuance of reaction. "It was a great disturbance in the Force, all those lives cried out in terror and were ended. They were … incomplete." He smacked his lips in relish. "Fates unfulfilled. Destinies postponed as they became one with the Force all at the same instant. That sort of thing, my boy, creates a _wound_."

There was _still_ nothing. Either Armitage was excellent at shielding (which was possible; from what he'd been able to tell, Snoke had been careless in using him too extensively and Hux was known to have jousted more than once with Kylo Ren), or he didn't feel any guilt over what he'd done: the Hosnian Cataclysm or re-awakening the Sith. Maybe both. 'Guilt' was not an emotion Sidious was familiar with in himself. It wasn't far-fetched that someone so closely related to him had the same advantage.

"How did it feel when that mighty weapon fired? To see your will enacted star systems away, blasting all your enemies to pieces?" Ah! There was a reaction. An unguarded twitch. He'd been told Armitage was ambitious, maybe even cruel. But he couldn't pin down what sort of reaction it was. A non-Force user left few ripples in its flow, making them harder to locate than those who exercised their powers freely.

"Mm, you enjoyed it," he guessed. Because he, Sidious, would have enjoyed it. Probably. Displays of power were as enjoyable as they were effective. And the Hosnian Cataclysm had been _very_ effective.

Nothing again.

Sidious laughed, low and knowing. "Ah, my boy. Your discretion is remarkable. We could work well together and so I will share with you my plans. Your fleet will be brought together over Jakku where they will be converted to operate under my control. So armed, I will move my attention to Coruscant, where the remaining leaders of the galaxy will meet to discuss the momentous event of my return."

Silence.

"There lies on Coruscant the ruins of the Jedi temple and beneath it, a Sith stronghold. I will take you there." Another twitch, stronger. Refusal. Rejection. He was getting easier to read as this went on. "It is your path, young Armitage. You are a shadow of mine. Where I go, you will follow. The time comes for you to take form in the darkness. I have guided many others through this transition. Come. Let us work together. That is your-"

He lost Hux's attention. There was another with him, a human of dark hair and light skin, probably male but it was impossible to tell. Hux had been kissed, head-butted, bitten, or embraced – something to put their faces together. The impression of the other was annoyingly fleeting and too generic, despite Sidious' enormous powers, to identify. Then they were both gone. Hux had woken.

Frustrated, Sidious left the trance. "He has a lover!" Sidious spat, disgusted by this turn of events. He turned to his closest attendant. "Fetch me General Pryde! I will know why this important fact was left out of the information I was provided!" Hux had been at large no more than three days. He couldn't have fallen in love in that time, so there must be some clue they had overlooked in his records.


	69. Kaydel 3

[Kaydel]

* * *

Kaydel watched as CL-0745 woke up and touched something at the top of her vambrace. It was the only piece of armor she had worn to sleep. Kaydel knew there were electronics built into stormtrooper armor, or which _could_ be built into it. The suits looked the same, but they weren't. CL-0745 obviously had some sort of alarm in hers which woke her at whatever proscribed time she was supposed to rise.

The first sergeant sat up and looked around the room. Assuming the watch schedule had been kept to, then one of the FN troopers and Chewbacca were standing guard in the forward compartment. Finn and Rose had never left the rear one. Everyone else was spread out asleep. Kaydel was sitting on her mat combing out her hair. "Don't wake them," she asked.

The first sergeant's eyes had settled on where Poe and Hux were. Poe was rather boldly and flagrantly spooning General Hux, with an arm around Hux's waist and a leg partly between his. He wasn't tall enough for it, but that certainly wasn't keeping him from it. Kaydel supposed he was as determined and persistent in matters of love as he was in those of war, but she had yet to understand his choice of target (or to go after someone _right now_, in the middle of a mission).

"Them?" the first sergeant asked, obviously meaning Poe and Hux.

"They had a really long day," Kaydel said. "And they stood the second watch."

"They stood watch _again_?"

Kaydel smiled tightly. It seemed unlikely they were getting it on, but she really couldn't think of why else they kept waking up together to demand unscheduled guard sessions in the forward compartment. 'We just couldn't sleep' did not make sense given how exhausted both men must be. Which also argued against them getting frisky, but … she really had no explanation.

The first sergeant crossed her legs and shook her head, showing that she might actually follow Kaydel's suggestion. She didn't wake anyone up. She pulled over her helmet and fiddled with the settings inside it. Kaydel picked up her comb again and was about to go back to her hair when CL-0745 said, "What … what is … what they are doing, to you?"

"What?" The question was so disjointed she couldn't make sense of it.

CL-0745 swallowed and scooted forward a few inches, putting aside the helmet. In the black body glove of under armor, the dim lighting, and the black interior of the First Order shuttle, she almost disappeared. Only her eyes, teeth, and the highlights of her features were visible. "Commander Dameron. What he's doing with the general. You … people, the Resistance. You decide things together. You talk. You … do things. In the Order, I would never question who an officer slept with." She chuckled ruefully. "But you?"

Well. That clarified a few things – one among them was that the first sergeant had the exact same take on the situation that Kaydel did. Kaydel had wondered why there was no visible backlash to Hux for him accepting Poe's advances. It was because there was literally no one to call him on it and his subordinates weren't about to. But CL-0745 had figured out that wasn't how the Resistance operated.

Kaydel said, "I … think Poe is … a good man and he … will treat General Hux well." She said it slowly, finding that it sounded very strange to be endorsing Poe's love life to some stormtrooper. Poe owed her for this. Big time.

"No. That's not what I'm asking. Is it … treason? Will he be punished when your general finds out? Or will no one tell her?"

Kaydel shook her head. "No. That's not it. We won't- I mean, yes, we'll tell General Organa if it comes up but it's not treason unless he does something against the Resistance."

"This?" CL-0745 gestured at the two, still entwined in slumber. "This is not?"

"No. Is it to you?"

"No. But as I said, it is above my rank."

Kaydel nodded. "Well, that's good, because they're doing it anyway. Whatever 'it' is." She drew the comb through her hair.

CL-0745 watched for several strokes of the comb. Kaydel assumed she was lost in thought about the peccadillos of her superior officer until she asked, "How long … How long did it take you to grow that?"

"My hair?"

"Yes."

"Um … most of my life. I've had some trims from time to time and my mother told me I had my little brother cut it once when I was small." CL-0745 leaned forward, peering at her. Kaydel asked cautiously, "Would you … like to look at it?"

"Lights up ten percent." They dutifully brightened. "May I?"

"Yes." CL-0745 came over to Kaydel's mat, the one she'd maintained possession of by virtue of hiding it in the cargo hold. The first sergeant was looking at her hair like it was a wondrous thing. Kaydel handed her the comb. "Use this." She turned away, presenting the back of her head.

Slowly, tentatively, CL-0745 moved the comb into Kaydel's hair and clumsily pulled down on it. "Like this?"

"Yes. Just be gentle." After a few strokes, Kaydel asked, "What about your hair? How often do you cut it?"

"Droids cut it. Every week for troopers. Officers can have longer hair, within regulation." Kaydel heard her swallow. "I was promoted, mostly, a few weeks ago. Right after the Battle of Crait." CL-0745 breathed out heavily. "I am to be a lieutenant – an officer – as soon as I finish training FL-2216 to take over as section commander. If that will ever come to pass." Her voice got softer, quieter. "I already have a name picked out."

Kaydel sighed, finding herself feeling for the plight of a stormtrooper worried about her promotion when the entire ship of tens of thousands of people had likely been wiped out. "What was the name?"

"Lady."

"Lady?" Kaydel asked dubiously.

"Yes. It is a name for a woman of influence or power. Lady Carise Sindian was a famous hero from Arkanis, the same planet our general was born on. I would name myself after her."

Interesting – Hux's home world was common knowledge. How much else of his background was? Also interesting – Kaydel had never heard or imagined the disgraced Lady Carise Sindian, who'd betrayed Leia Organa and likely sold out the New Republic to the First Order, characterized as a 'hero'. But from CL-0745's point of view, she supposed that was how it was.

"What would you do as a lieutenant?"

"I might be in charge of internal security for an entire deck."

"Internal?"

"Yes. We never saw active combat deployment. That's not our duty."

CL-0745 was still brushing her hair and touching it gently with her other hand. Kaydel reached back and took a section. "Now I braid it. Want to watch?"

"Yes."

She sectioned it, twisted it, then folded and looped the sections around one another, collecting a couple pins that secured it at the end. "There. All done." CL-0745 made no response that Kaydel could see. She looked back to see she was brushing at where the furry tip of a bunch of hair stuck out just a little from the end. It wasn't a big thing. Had Kaydel used a mirror, she wouldn't have had even that much out of place. "Are you going to grow out your hair?"

"Yes. I don't think it will be like yours. Mine is not fine and straight, but curled. My hair is like that of Grand Admiral Sloane."

She'd heard of Rae Sloane – another Imperial villain, New Republic enemy, and if CL-0745's tone was any indicator, hero of the First Order. "I'm sure it will be beautiful."

"It may be, someday. But yours … yours is beautiful _now_." CL-0745's eyes lingered over Kaydel's face and the crown of braids she had put her hair into. Her gaze was intense, just like everything else about her.

That look and their proximity sparked something inside Kaydel. "Thank you," she said haltingly.

CL-0745 nodded and returned to sit next to her helmet. She began putting on her armor for the day.

Kaydel gave her a long look, trying to process what had just happened. That … that had been unexpected. It cast CL-0745's questions about Hux and Poe in an entirely different light.


	70. Hux 18

[Hux]

* * *

Hux woke to the sound of low voices, trying to be quiet. It brought him awake faster than casual tones would have. Through slitted eyes, he could see CL-0745 sitting behind Lt. Connix, brushing her hair, of all things. Their conversation was inconsequential, though he listened to it anyway as CL-0745 talked about the name she'd already picked out, possibly in some sideways honoring of himself. It was touching.

Speaking of touching, Poe's hand was nestled against Hux's belly. He covered it with his own – his fingers were slightly longer and thinner than the pilot's and definitely paler. He stroked the hand gently, thinking about the kisses they'd exchanged; thinking about how Poe had woke him during the night by kissing him. It had been jarring, but he had to say it was an improvement over what was going on in his head.

It had felt like a dream, with Sidious, Palpatine, or whoever trying to tempt him into conversation. He assumed it was more. He was still tired and there was nothing interesting to see here – Connix was braiding her hair now. He supposed his own was a mess, but … he would take care of that later. For now he was warmed by Poe's entire body against his back and the surprising security that brought. His eyes slid shut.

"Tritt! Ah!" Energy coursed through him, vivid and overwhelming. Force lightning – Tritt Opan was being killed with it. Hux gasped. He'd known the man since he was a child, Tritt being the least objectionable of his father's associates. He'd never been Brendol's crony, but he'd worked for Brendol often enough that Armitage knew him by name and deed. After Brendol was dead, Armitage had hired Tritt himself.

They had grown friendly through the long association. Tritt had been amused by Brendol's son and never mocked him like the others did. He'd provided Armitage with the first knife he hadn't had to steal from someone else or pilfer from stores. Every shred of that acquaintance was being exploited - hard, savage, and painful. Hux gasped and rolled face down on the floor to protect his vitals. His hands were in front of him, trapped under him, though not shackled as Tritt's were. He tried not to convulse. The energy was pouring through Tritt, not himself. It was just a full-sensation, surround-sound hallucination of dying.

"Hugs?" Poe shook his shoulder in alarm. "Hugs? Wake up!"

Other voices were in the background, but the one Hux dreaded was Sidious'. The lightning stopped. "Hugs?" Sidious said.

"No!" Hux said and he wasn't sure he'd said it to Sidious or Poe. Or maybe just to the universe. At least he wasn't being shocked anymore. Or rather, Tritt wasn't. The man was still breathing. Hux had told Sidious no before and it hadn't done anything, but he hadn't had such a tie to him at that point. It felt dangerous to speak to him now, like he could feel Sidious' fingers exploring the thread between them that he'd drawn taut.

"Are you okay?" Poe hand was still on him.

"Don't touch me! He sees it!"

There was a sinister laugh in his head as Poe retreated. "I do, my boy. I do. I see everything. You should cut short this pointless, adolescent rebellion and come to me. We can do so much together. There will come a time when I stop asking."

It was so tempting to answer him with words of spite or defiance. Hux swallowed them down and sat up, breathing hard. Seconds dragged on.

"Lights to fifty percent." That was CL-0745, who was mostly armored and had her blaster up and pointed at Poe. Half her squad had the same target. The other half was waking and grabbing weapons, bringing them to bear on anyone not First Order.

"No," Hux said weakly, bringing his attention to the room and the dangers here and now. "Stand down. He isn't-" He had a sense it was the drift in his attention (and the time elapsed without response) that led Sidious to act.

Sidious, distantly: "Then he dies."

Power coursed through him again. Hux curled into himself, arms curled over his middle. He was barely able to keep himself from falling to the floor again. He shook, bodily.

"Is he here?" That was Rey's voice.

"I think it's a projection." Ren's.

"Can we stop it?" Poe now.

"Ah!" Hux slumped with a gasp. "He's dead. It's over." He panted. The connection had severed, yanked out of him like a wad of hair, leaving his scalp tender and burning. More than he had ever in his life, he wanted to grieve. It felt like a part of himself had died. He'd liked Tritt well enough. Every bit of that liking had been used to lacerate his soul.

"Who's dead?" Poe asked.

"Tritt. Captain Tritt Opan." Hux rubbed his wrists uneasily. The lightning had scorched Tritt's flesh under them and although _his_ wrists were whole, his mind kept telling him they had burned. "I've known him since I was a child. Sidious finally found someone I had a … a meaningful connection to." He looked up at Poe, who looked as alarmed as one might be to wake up next to someone writhing. "He heard you. He felt your hand."

Poe looked at his hand.

"Does he know where we are?" Ren asked.

Hux shook his head. "No. He was still demanding that I come to him even after that. If he'd known where we were, he would have moved on that immediately. He wouldn't have tried to coerce it out of me further."

"What about last night?" Poe asked. "When I, uh, distracted you? Did he see me then?"

"I don't know." He smiled hollowly, thinking about that pleasant distraction.

"What happened last night?" Ren asked. "Was there more?"

Hux glanced around. The entire compartment was awake now, everyone paying attention to him. "I always knew how to command an audience," he said dryly.

"We can go forward." Ren gestured at the forward compartment.

"No need," Hux answered. "Yes, there was more. He tried bribing me into engaging instead of him having to search for me."

"And did you?" Ren asked.

"I'm not an idiot!" Hux said. "Why do you people-" He shook his head in disbelief, looking between the Force users and at Poe. "Of course not. No. The whole thing was a trap. His lies within it were a trap. The locations, his plans, his promises – that's bait and I am not taking it. I am not putting my neck into his collar. I will not allow him to rule me."

Hux looked around the room angrily. "And he knows it, which is why he's moved on to blackmail and torture now. No one has ever called me 'Hugs' in a public forum except you," he said, swinging to Dameron. "He'll find out. There were too many witnesses to that call over D'Qar and no one can block his mind. I don't know what he can do with the information, but he'll have your name for it."

Poe bared his teeth in regret. "I didn't know."

"I know. I don't blame you. We agreed that you were to interfere if you saw it happening. He's alert for that interference now. Just know that." Hux sighed. He was still huddled. His hair was hanging in his eyes. He'd showered the day before so at least it wasn't greasy, but it was still unkempt. He looked across at Connix and said in a bedraggled voice, "May I borrow your comb?"

"Yes," she said softly, digging it out. Poe fetched it, as Hux was still sitting. He didn't think he could stand yet, but he could at least put his hair to rights.


	71. Poe 6

[Poe]

* * *

"I think we need to make sure everyone has the same information." Poe looked to Kylo and Rey. Rey nodded. Kylo didn't, but Poe cared more about her buy-in than his. Poe slapped the button for the forward compartment to loop the guards into the conversation. "Stay at your post, guys, but you need to hear this, too." C'ai did the same for Finn and Rose in the rear compartment.

Poe scanned over the stormtroopers in the room – the ones who had earlier drawn blasters and had been poised to shoot him out of concern he was involved with whatever harm was befalling Hux. He couldn't blame them for that – they didn't know. Communication, sometimes, was key.

"I don't know who knows what, or how much information makes it to average stormtroopers, so I'm going to start with things I figure everyone knows. The Battle of Crait – a few weeks ago, more or less?" People nodded. "Snoke dies. Kylo Ren becomes supreme leader. A week later," he waved back at Hux, who was still on the floor, "Kylo is convicted of assassinating Snoke, committing treason, and whatever the other charges were. But he escapes."

Now Poe gestured at Kylo. "He comes to the Resistance. He and Rey have a vision in the Force they describe as 'the end of it all'. They say they see the return of Darth Sidious, some old … Sith, who comes back and possesses General Hux." The stormtrooper's expressions were mostly confused. He tried to explain, "Like, spiritual possession."

"Magic?" One of them asked. Without the rank insignia (other than the first sergeant, they were still in black under armor and nothing else), Poe wasn't entirely sure which one she was. It was disturbing how quickly he'd found himself depending on their armor and relative heights to identify them, rather than, like, their faces.

"The Force," said another.

"The Force doesn't do that," said a different one.

"How do you know?"

"Isn't the Force just another word for magic?"

CL-0745 said, "Shut it. Listen." She turned to Poe. "Go on."

"Where was I?" Poe asked.

"Darth Sidious," Threnalli said in Abednedo.

"Right. Darth Sidious. I don't know where he came from, by the way. He just showed up."

"The Hosnian Cataclysm," Hux said from behind him. He was still sitting on the floor.

"What?" Poe asked, turning somewhat to see him.

"The destruction of the Hosnian system," Hux said in a tired voice. "It caused a disturbance in the Force. Some kind of 'wound' that caused him to manifest. Or return."

"How do you know that?" Kylo asked softly.

Hux said, "He told me."

"Snoke?" Kylo asked, though he seemed as aware as anyone that the logical inference from Hux's statement was that he meant Sidious. Poe assumed Kylo didn't believe it.

"No. Sidious. Earlier, in my head." Hux gestured at his skull. "I said he spoke to me. He offered me information. He might have been lying, though."

"If he wasn't," Kylo said with a sneer that Poe interpreted to mean there was pre-existing baggage on this subject, "then _you_ created him. Fitting that you're the one who has to deal with him." Hux rolled his eyes in a slow and exaggerated fashion to show his opinion of whatever ongoing feud they had over this. Kylo added, "You also said he made promises. What were they?"

Hux's voice turned defensive in a quick change from how dismissive he'd been before. "That's personal. And irrelevant." Hux fiddled with the comb that was still in his hand, flicking his thumbnail up the teeth of it several times in quick succession as he glared at Kylo.

Now Kylo rolled _his_ eyes. "He offered you something, something that matters. 'Bribes', you said. I know a few things about being seduced by the dark side."

"As do _I_!" Hux said, getting to his feet and approaching Kylo. "But there was no need to 'seduce me' since I was never in the light to start with! They are lies. They are all, _always_, lies. He could promise to make me the rightful ruler of Coruscant and I would not be the least tempted because I know it's false. Did Snoke ever deliver on anything he promised you?"

Kylo looked sulky. "A few things."

"'A few things'," Hux mocked. "You should have known better than to believe him about anything! You're too gullible."

"You followed his orders, too!" Kylo snapped. "You're too jaded!"

"Hey, hey!" Poe interposed himself between the two men. "Calm down, you two. Next step after this is name-calling, then pushing and shoving. Next thing you know, someone gets hurt. Anyway, he's perfect." He looked to Kylo and said, "You're fine." Poe put an arm around Hux's upper back. "But he's perfect."

"Perfect?" Threnalli snorted, still in Abednedo.

"He is," Poe insisted. He turned to Hux, who was blushing again. "You're the best."

Hux gently pulled himself free and moved to Kaydel, extending the comb. "Thank you for this."

"No problem," she said very quietly.

Hux returned to the wall where he'd started, saying to Poe as he passed, "I can't tell if you're tooling with me or not."

"I'm not. Not this time. Do you want me to give you the list again? Like last night? All the things I like about you? I might have some new stuff for it."

"No!" Hux looked scandalized. He blushed even harder.

Poe grinned, his mouth hanging open. "Yeah, probably a good idea. We'd be here a long time." He turned back to the rest. "Okay, where was I?"

There was a moment of silence in the room, broken only by Kaydel trying very hard not to laugh and a single suspicious-sounding sniff from CL-0745.

Threnalli helped him again, this time in Basic so others could understand him. "Sidious came from elsewhere and now he's …?"

"Yeah, yeah. So he's going to try to possess Hux here. At some point."

Hux said, "You've skipped the important part that my father, Brendol Hux, was a clone of Emperor Palpatine, which was the public name of this Sith, Darth Sidious."

Several of the stormtroopers gasped as the pieces finally fell together meaningfully. Apparently imperial history was not a subject their possibly abridged education skipped. Poe said, "Oh. Yeah. That's, that's important." He looked around at people, particularly the First Order ones who seemed to be taking this fine, though it was startling news. "And since Sidious has discovered that his son, grandson, nephew, or whatever the proper word is, has escaped, he's been using Force powers to try to force your general to turn himself in and betray all of us. Which is why he's sleeping badly."

"We have two Force users," Threnalli said, turning to Kylo and Rey. "Powerful ones. Can you block Sidious somehow?"

Rey smiled awkwardly. Kylo studied the floor. Threnalli made a confused noise at their expressions.

"Yeah, about that," Poe said, looking at Rey. "Your turn."

Rey sighed. "We … have elected to temporarily cut ourselves off from the Force, because otherwise Sidious might be able to track us by our presence in the Force."

"You can't use the Force?" Hux asked sharply, stepping up next to Poe.

"No. Not … right now. It's a simple process to-" She shook her head, looking at Hux and the odd expression on his face.

Hux said, "You're telling me that right now, I could have every one of you shot and he, and you for that matter, couldn't stop it? You'd just die?"

Silence descended over the compartment, quiet enough that you could hear Kylo swallow and Poe could hear the rub of fabric against his own bristly neck as he turned his head to look disbelievingly at Hux. "_That's_ why you haven't had us killed?"

Hux looked Poe up and down with thinly-veiled desire. "One of the reasons."

Poe raised his brows, pleased beyond measure that Hux wanted him, Hux was admitting it publicly (sort of), and Poe had been right all along that jumping the guy's bones (or trying to) would save the galaxy.

Hux laughed, turned, and walked back to the wall. Poe didn't miss how CL-0745 tracked his movements, poised, like she was waiting for the order. Poe looked over his shoulder to track Hux as well, not sure if he should be grinning or worried. He knew there was something wrong with him that he liked how dangerous this guy was. Hux made a dismissive hand wave at the troopers, who released a collective sigh and relaxed. They shifted in place a little in what looked like a subdued version of their 'laugh' movement.

Strange sense of humor – the whole lot of them. Poe turned back to the rest. "So. We're all good here. We're all friends. We have a common enemy."

"And I need the wing installed," Hux said. "So you're safe for now, Force or no Force."

"You're just a ray of sunshine," Poe said, smiling broadly.

"Fear not," Hux said. "As you told me – I need you."

This time, Poe was the one who blushed.


	72. Rose 3

[Rose]

* * *

Rose shut the door to the bunk area. It allowed people from the main compartment to access the refresher, which they began doing once the general announcements and information-sharing was over.

The first one in complained loudly that someone named Bigs had not cleaned up after himself when washing the crab meat the night before. The second one to use the refresher (named Blaze) complained that the first one (whom he called Major), having noticed the problem, had an obligation to clean it up himself and so they (Blaze) weren't going to either. Leaving the mess for some third person to find.

Rose was surprised that it was the staff sergeant who weighed in the matter, with First Sergeant CL-0745 saying nothing. Or maybe she'd gone to the forward compartment for a unit report. Rose wasn't sure who ended up having to clean. She was trying to filter the whole thing out, but the stormtroopers weren't being especially quiet about their blame-laying and feuding. She had to pee, but hearing them griping kept her where she was.

She asked Finn, "Do we need to be worried about General Hux?"

"No," he said with an unbothered shake of his head. "If he was going to kill us, then he would have said outright that he wasn't going to."

She thought through that. "He would have lied through his teeth, you're saying."

"Yeah. Since he didn't, and he really can't admit that he's not going to do anything – well, I suppose he _could_ admit it and he sort of did, but if the High Command was still around he couldn't – anyway, we're safe."

"Good to hear. How are you?"

He sat up carefully. "Not bad, considering." He was naked. The blanket was thin. It pooled around his waist and over his thighs. A lifelong member of institutionalized military, Finn was comfortable with nakedness. Which was a good thing, as his clothes had been shredded.

He examined his left forearm, where the slice had turned into a wide, red line. His skin was still filthy – neither of them had bathed the night before. The sole concession to that had been Rose washing her hands, face, and forearms. Finn looked at the heel of his palm. "There was a mark here yesterday. A poke. It's completely gone now. That stuff you put on it is the good stuff." Finn checked his legs. The big gouge was still there, but it wasn't an open wound at the moment.

"That looks fragile," Rose said of the thin membrane of skin trying to form over it.

"Yeah. Check my back."

She did. It was an expanse of muscle, so impressive she had to give herself a shake to focus on his injuries. "It's mostly the same as on your legs – little stuff gone, medium stuff mostly healed, big stuff sealed over but it looks like any exertion might tear it back open. You need to take it easy today. Bedrest if you can."

Finn grumbled. "How's this one?" He reached back, feeling around for the one on his ass.

She sighed wistfully. "Marring perfection."

"What?"

"You have the most incredible butt I've ever seen."

He blinked at her, half grinning, like no one had ever told him anything like that and it was hard to believe.

She added, "It's like the one on your leg. Just barely hanging on. Looks like you bled on the bed." She gestured.

"Hm. Yeah." He ignored the bed and kissed her softly.

Outside, they heard someone loudly complain, "I think those are bug guts!" and "I'm not touching them." It ruined the otherwise tender moment between them.

Rose pulled away and shook her head. "Just clean it up already!" she said in the direction of the door. She half hoped they heard her, but if they did they didn't indicate it. "There's only one refresher. We all use it. It's not that hard to figure out."

Finn chuckled understandingly. "I do not miss working sanitation."

"Should we apply more of that stuff? From the medpack?"

"No, it should be fine." He sat on the bed and pulled over his clothes. "We used that all the time in training. Anything that broke the skin, you'd slap that on it and the next day you'd be ready to go. Bruises you just lived with unless you thought something was broken, then they'd have the droids look at it. You had to be careful what you complained about, though. If it was serious, you might not want to tell anyone."

"Why?"

"Medical termination. Especially for kids and cadets. Or subadults. If it was something that would take a lot of rehabilitation or that you could never recover from …" He shrugged. His clothes were a bloody ruin. He gave up on them and examined his boots next.

"Like yesterday, with that stormtrooper?"

"Exactly. No one's going to put a prosthetic on a foot soldier. Now, maybe an officer. Not that I can think of any who had them." He looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, "Officers get a lot of perks. Did you know they were training me to be an officer?"

"They were?"

Finn nodded. "I don't know what the exact plan was, but they wanted me to get a couple rounds of active combat experience under my belt and then they were going to transition me into some kind of logistics role. As an officer. Direct promotion. That's a big deal in the Order."

"I'm glad you're out of there," she said.

"I know … I know you keep saying that. But …" Finn looked up hesitantly from examining one of his boots. "Rose, I'm thinking of going back."

"What?" she said in shock. "Why?"

He spilled quickly. "Snoke's gone. Kylo Ren's gone. A lot of the High Command is different. Something big's going on and this Sidious thing is just going to shake things up even more. They need leaders. They especially need leaders who know it doesn't have to be the way it used to be. Who are willing to fight to make things better."

She stared at him with wide eyes. "Would … would they even take you?"

He shrugged. "Right now I'm a unit commander answering to a general who's declared a truce with us at my request. Maybe. I know my history – you know, First Order history, imperial history. Stranger things have happened."

She shook her head disbelievingly. "I thought you were happy to be out." Or was _she_ the one who was happy he was out?

"I am. But … I want to end the war. I want to make the galaxy a better place. Maybe I'm needed more … with them."

"Finn, they tried to shoot you yesterday."

"They didn't."

"But they were going to!"

"You did."

"It was on stun!"

From the other side of the door, Kaydel asked, "Everything okay in there?" Their voices had been raised for some time now, but the words were probably indistinct.

"I can't believe this," Rose said as what Finn was proposing finally filtered in. He looked so serious. "Yeah," she told Kaydel. "Yeah, we're fine. Is the refresher open? I have to pee."


	73. Finn 6

[Finn]

* * *

Finn was considering his lot in life when the door chime sounded. "Yes?"

"It's General Hux. I need your unit report."

"Um …" Finn frowned at himself. He was dirty and naked, with filthy, torn clothing on the bed next to him. Not even his underwear was salvageable (it was actually one of the worst pieces), though he assumed his socks would be okay if he could wash all the blood out of them. "I … uh …"

The door slid open, which was well within Hux's prerogative to barge in. Finn sat at attention, not especially wanting to pull himself up to standing unless he had to. Hux's eyes roamed over him critically, lingering on his wounds. "Are you fit to serve?"

"Restricted duty, sir."

Hux looked past him at the clothing on the bed. "Your uniform does not appear to meet regulation."

"Um. No." Finn picked up the shirt carefully, showing the torn and bloody back of it. He was careful because Hux had not asked him to do so. Showing him something unasked for wasn't as rude as speaking without permission, but he was careful all the same.

Hux nodded. "Wait." He left, leaving the door open. Finn heard him address CL-0745. "First Sergeant, was there any clothing or something that could pass as such in the stores when you examined them?"

"There were a couple stock uniforms, sir."

"Let me see them. Get me the largest of them."

Shortly, Hux returned with a basic black duty uniform. He handed it over. Finn fingered the cloth, noting it was a bit thicker than the stuff Lando had used to make their disguises. There was no belt, boots, or rank insignia. The idea being that anyone unexpectedly required to stay overnight would have something they could change into, and would transfer their own accoutrements as Finn would. Finn observed, "This is a real officer's uniform, sir."

"I won't have you naked or in rags. You have no rank so it's just fabric."

"What if I did? Have a rank? What would it be?"

Hux's brows drew together in mild suspicion. "It would be lieutenant," he said slowly, confirming for Finn that Hux knew what he was really asking. That he had a rank in mind was not surprising. In order for Hux to deal with him at all, he'd likely had to imagine a rank to work out where to slot Finn into his worldview. It was something Finn did as well.

Finn kept fingering the cloth, trying to decide how bold he wanted to be about this. "I could put a braid on it," he offered. Braids were acceptable field insignias for service uniforms. The captain's insignia from the disguise could be altered.

"CL-0745 is still your senior. But you're in luck in that her paperwork has already been filed and her promotion is approved on contingency. I could say that contingency was filled and she would be a lieutenant as well. But we don't have a red pauldron for her and I won't have you dressed higher than she is."

They were _definitely_ talking about the same thing. Finn nodded. "I understand, sir."

"Are you seeking to enlist?" Hux's voice was unhurried and cautious, as was Finn's.

"H-482 is an adult recruit. I know they happen."

"They do. But I can't think of another situation where the applicant had been previously convicted of _treason_." He didn't sound disgusted. Just curious.

"You annulled it."

"I vacated the sentence."

Finn hesitated. "What's the difference?" he asked finally.

"The conviction stands. There's no punishment. I made a note in the shuttle's log yesterday catching up the paperwork. Anything can be amended."

"Okay. You know your history better than I do. Sir. You know exceptions are made. Snoke. Kylo Ren. The Knights of Ren. The Amaxine Integration. The Quehulon Nebula Splinter Faction. The Allegiant fleet. And those are just the big groups. Individuals sign up all the time. I fought on your side yesterday. I intend to fight on your side against Sidious. And … beyond that, if it's granted."

"Your record would indicate your loyalties are … fickle."

"I'm trying to do the right thing. I always have," Finn said earnestly. "Does that matter?"

Hux studied him, expression closed. He asked another question instead of answering. "Would you be joining alone?"

"I think so."

"Hm. Make yourself presentable – no rank. I will finalize CL-0745's promotion. I will speak with H-482 about your comportment yesterday. And I will take your request under consideration. You can make your report after breakfast." With that, Hux turned and left, closing the door behind him this time.

Finn breathed out deeply. He'd really done that. He'd really asked. Sort of – he hadn't explicitly asked but it was perfectly clear to both of them what he was saying. He still had a day or at least a few hours to reconsider. It seemed insane now that he had started the process. What would everyone think of him for switching sides willy-nilly?

He shook it off and got on with his duty. He took a shower, cleaned his boots as best he could, and got dressed – no socks, no underwear. The uniform was tight, especially across the shoulders and the tops of his thighs, but it covered him. When he walked out, he was still trying to get used to how it clung to him. The bites from his back hurt when he flexed them, so he moved carefully.

Once he was down the ramp, he saw the real reason for moving outside – breakfast had to be cooked (or at least most of them wanted it that way). It was probably better to call it lunch, as it was well past mid-day.

"Already?" Rose said when Finn came down the ramp. She eyed the uniform. So did everyone else. Admittedly, Kaydel, Rose, and Rey were in First Order uniforms as well, but his was new and it attracted attention.

He shrugged and gestured to himself, turning to address everyone. "My clothes were trashed. I have to wear something. Last time I checked, they didn't carry civilian clothes on random military shuttles."

"You're lucky they had that," Kaydel said with a laugh as she handed him a plate of boiled crab. It had green stuff in it, some kind of plant. "It's a little … hm … form-fitting."

"Haha. Yeah," he said, mostly unamused.

"Do they have others? Most of us could do with a change."

"Maybe one or two. Ask the first sergeant."

"I will," Kaydel said.

Finn turned back to Rose. In a lower voice, he said as they moved to the side, "I did ask, though."

"What did he say?" She, too, kept her voice low as they walked apart from the group.

"He didn't say no."

She gave him a dubious look. "He's desperate."

"Yeah," Finn nodded. "He is. Why wouldn't he be? That's why I'm doing this. Saving what I love, remember?"

Disbelievingly, she said, "You love … the First Order?"

"Not … not that exactly, no. But Rose … I grew up there. I served with people. I felt really strongly about some of them. The whole reason- No, it's not the _whole_ reason I defected, but it was the trigger. On Jakku, one of my squad mates, named Slip, was killed. I … I loved him. I'd been written up for trying to help him too much during sims. He was one of my people and to see him get killed so pointlessly, just a random bolt out of nowhere, really messed me up."

He'd seen H-482 kneeling next to TN-1017 and even if the Old Man had been the one to shoot him, Finn had understood what was going on there. Troopers cared about each other. Everyone pretended they didn't, but they _did_. And he cared about them, too, especially now that he didn't have to pretend anymore.

Finn shifted closer to her, quieter. "Rose, every one of those troopers was once just a scared kid like I was. Some of them still are. They just … hide it better. The first chance I got to run, I did. Some of them," he nodded his head in the direction of the nearest perimeter guard, "are just the same. They just haven't had the chance yet. Maybe I can do something about that. So they're not running _away_ from something. But fighting _for_ it."

"You'd have to change the whole First Order."

Finn shrugged. "How is this any tougher or more dangerous than stopping them from the outside?"

She gave a worried, pensive frown, but said, "You have a point."


	74. Poe 7

[Poe]

* * *

Poe brought his plate of crab over to where Hux was eating a meal bar next to the severed wing. "You don't like crab?"

Hux turned from where he'd been gazing at the wing. "With rank comes privileges and in this case, I'm going to eat something else."

"Is it the smell?"

"No. It … it has a _shell_."

"Uh … huh." Poe moved a bit of stringy meat around on his plate. "This is just meat. They did okay on cleaning it up last night. No shell pieces."

"It _had_ a shell."

Poe grinned. "Is this one of those things that doesn't have anything to do with practicality or logic?"

"What do you mean?"

"Hux, it's food. It's the food we have. The scanners said it was fine for us and no one got sick from eating it last night."

"Yes, I know that," Hux said with irritation. "I am fully aware. Should I be required to eat that for the survival of the Order or if I were ordered to by a legitimate authority, then I would. But I am not. We still have meal bars. I am eating one of them."

"I see that. No one else is eating them."

"Because I ordered everyone else to eat the perishable meat that will extend our food stores by several days."

"While you eat the meal bars."

"Yes, while I eat the meal bars." Hux finished the one he had in one large, defiant bite.

Poe looked around at the others. Chewbacca preferred the stuff raw. The rest of the Resistance was eating it with only mild complaints about the lack of seasoning. H-482 was thrilled with the stuff and wouldn't shut up about it, despite the borderline surly looks and snide comments he got from the others. Speaking of which, now that Poe paid attention, every one of the stormtroopers looked like someone had pissed in their helmets this morning, _except_ H-482. Who hadn't been raised as a stormtrooper.

Poe asked, "Does the whole First Order not eat sea food?"

"We do not eat anything that has an exoskeleton, no. But this is a desperate situation and I have ordered them to eat it. So they are eating it."

"But you're not eating it."

"No."

"Huh. Is that because your guys all wear armor?"

"What?"

"An exoskeleton. Is it, like, you don't eat other things that are armored? Solidarity or something?"

"No. It's because they're scum-suckers and bottom-feeders. They're filthy. They're unclean."

"But … they're not." Poe pointed his fork at the stuff on his plate. "These were, like, apex predators, as far as I can tell."

Hux sighed and rolled his eyes, defeated. "You're right. It has nothing to do with logic or practicality. Does that make you happy for me to admit it?"

"Yeah." He nodded, then reached out his free hand and slipped it around Hux's waist, hugging him. He'd stowed his fork on the plate. "Sorry I got you worked up. I can imagine you have other things on your mind this morning."

"I do." Hux looked over at Finn. Hux brought up a hand along Poe's back, stroking it affectionately a couple times. Poe still had some very sore muscles back there. Even the light touch was appreciated. It made the hair stand up on the back of his neck. He had to keep himself still from the frisson, but he still made a soft, appreciative noise.

Poe dropped his voice lower. "Can I ask a question that might be a little more sensitive?"

"Yes." Hux didn't stop moving his hand or watching where Finn and Rose were talking.

"What did Sidious offer you?"

Hux snorted. "Force powers. To rule the galaxy. Possibly immortality. Collaboration. He doesn't know what I want, so he's offering anything and everything in a random fashion. It's a very good sign for us. He still thinks Kylo Ren is my enemy."

"Yeah, that doesn't seem to be true."

Hux sighed. "If we wanted each other dead, it would have happened years ago. Though I'll admit it's been a near thing many times. This was not even the first time he's saved my life."

"Oh? Really?"

Hux patted him on the shoulder and looked at his temple. His lips twitched, then he thought better of it and started to pull away. Poe hooked his hand against Hux's back as he started to slip away. "No. Hey. Go ahead."

Hux glanced over at the various troopers with an anxious expression.

"They know," Poe said, addressing Hux's evident fear of being caught or seen. They weren't blind. Everyone knew.

"But do they know it's reciprocal?"

After how Hux had looked at him that morning? "Is it?" Poe tried to play that off as an innocent question, like it didn't matter either way to him, but he knew it didn't come out sounding that way.

Hux must have heard the tone and understood it. He kissed Poe on the temple and let it linger for several seconds before pulling away. "When Finn's done eating, have him find me in the forward compartment. I put together some schematics yesterday for Commander Tico to review before she starts the repairs. I need to make sure they're still applicable now that I've seen the wing." Hux patted him on the shoulder again and headed over to the ramp.

Poe watched him go, his heart melting a little more than he thought it should. If they did manage to get off this rock and survive whatever Sidious had in mind, Poe wondered what the two of them would do about this relationship. Would they close the door on it and pretend it never happened? Would one of them have to sacrifice their politics for the other? Was there some way to meet in the middle?

Once Sidious was dealt with, there was nothing practical or logical in the two of them being together. He supposed it was a good sign that Hux wasn't entirely by-the-book when his personal preference was involved. A little corrupt, sure, but no one was being hurt by it. Poe could deal with that.


	75. Hux 19

[Hux]

* * *

"Stay here," Hux said to H-482 as he went down the ramp. He'd finished both unit reports, presided over the situation report, and then heard H-482's account of Finn's conduct the day before. His next task was better done now than endlessly postponed until it was too late. He went to Finn, where he was watching the Resistance move the wing into position by carefully adjusting the repulsors.

"Finn." Finn turned to face him, suitably at attention. It remained insulting that the Resistance had stolen such an exemplary officer and then not even bothered to give him a proper rank. "Interrupt your repairs and redeploy your people for perimeter guard. I will be withdrawing all troopers inside for a short meeting."

Commander Tico, who was only a few meters from him, came over and asked, "All troopers? _Only _the troopers? For what?"

"A short meeting," Hux repeated, while still looking at Finn. He didn't understand why the Resistance could not grasp that he was in charge, he was going to talk to who he wanted to talk to, and to no one else. Square peg. Round hole. Wrong battery cartridge.

"Yes sir," Finn said.

Getting no answer from Hux, Tico asked Finn, "What are they meeting about? Is this normal?"

As Hux began to turn away, Finn said, "Can we attend, sir?" That told him Finn knew what was going on.

"This isn't about _you_." He hadn't made up his mind about Finn's request yet. That was one that might be better off endlessly postponed. There was a lot to think about with that one.

"I know, sir."

Hux looked around at the Resistance. Everyone had stopped working and were watching. Excluding them, even if he gave the reason, would leave them suspicious and resentful. Including them meant there would be a larger audience. He always liked an audience. And CL-0745 deserved one. "Stay in the back and keep quiet."

"Thank you, sir."


	76. Rose 4

[Rose]

* * *

"First Sergeant?" Hux called out. "Come to the front. Stand with me." Hux turned to the section, which had hastily arranged themselves in formation. They stood at unwavering attention. The gathering was quiet enough that Rose could hear every word, even though she stood at the back at the top of the open ramp. (And it helped that Hux was good at projecting his voice.)

"I have assembled you here to witness one of the most sacred traditions the First Order has – the recognition of merit and accomplishment within our ranks, affirmed through promotion and commission. In the case of the individual known to you previously as First Sergeant CL-0745, her promotion to and commission as lieutenant was approved following the Battle of Crait, contingent upon the successful training of her replacement as commander of the second section squadron of the first platoon, ninth company, Footsoldier legion, _Finalizer_ Internal Security."

Rose leaned to the side, but there wasn't much to see. Hux was standing in front of the hatch to the forward compartment. Next to him stood CL-0745 with her helmet tucked under her arm. Everyone else was in full armor, helmets on, evenly and perfectly spaced.

Hux continued. "It is my honor and privilege as a general of the First Order and a member of the High Command to have the authority decide when that contingency has been filled and to formally implement the resulting transition to an officer. I want to first personally acknowledge her extraordinary performance of duties while serving in combat and under related combat conditions, such as those we are currently enduring."

He turned to CL-0745 and spoke to her directly, his voice still carrying, but pitched differently. "Your service has been commendable. Your leadership, superb. You have been an exceptional stabilizing presence, kept perfect control of your unit and performed every task put to you despite the chaos of our situation, the presence of the Resistance, and me being an unfamiliar commander for you. For this, I am grateful. You are an example to all who find themselves in such trying times."

CL-0745 sniffed audibly and otherwise stayed very stiff and still. Her eyes were shining so much Rose expected tear tracks by the end of the ceremony. Next to her, Kaydel sniffed as well.

Hux continued speaking with her. "An officer is charged with representing the best values of the First Order. Your thoughts must be on advancing the organization and not on personal benefit. We change our frame of thought from worrying about ourselves to mentoring, training, guiding, leading, and instilling discipline in the troops we are entrusted with. We uphold traditions, dignity, and high standards. We willingly accept responsibility for the good or bad of those under our supervision, for the success or failure of our mission is our responsibility alone. That is the burden placed on every officer of the Order. I am proud to say I am convinced of your ability to bear that burden for the benefit of all.

"And so." Hux turned to the side, picking up something from the side console that had hitherto blended in with the standard black color scheme. It was the other basic duty uniform of an officer that they'd pulled out when finding clothes for Finn. "I present you with officer's dress and permission to wear it, although if you prefer armor given our current tactical situation, that is your prerogative. If you wear the uniform, I also grant permission for and direct that you attach one braid to the left sleeve as a temporary marker of rank. If you wear armor, you have the right to a red pauldron which will be acquired at the earliest opportunity. I have entered today's award into the ship's log so it is part of the permanent record. Here is your code cylinder."

Hux handed it over so she stood holding a uniform in one hand and the small metal cylinder in the other, helmet still under her arm. He said, "You are now a lieutenant, with full rank and privileges thereof. You have a place in the rolls for the champions of the Order and a name to be remembered by. Tell us that name, so that all may know it."

She was so choked up that it took two tries before she could speak. And then, the name: "Lady."

That was a weird name. Rose furrowed her brow and looked a silent question at Finn, who had been named semi-randomly by someone he'd just met. Finn shrugged at her like he didn't even know what she was asking. Kaydel, on the other side of him, gave a quick shake of her head and a rapid, negating hand wave like she knew something about this and Rose should drop it. Rose gave a roll of her eyes to dismiss her question and went back to watching.

"Lieutenant Lady," Hux said solemnly. He turned to the assembly. "You are all dismissed. You may return to your assigned duties." Despite the 'go about your business' tone, the troopers broke out in sudden cheers. They crowded around her, yelling things like, 'We can never talk to you again!', 'Good riddance', 'Ugliest mug on deck!', 'About time!', and other cheerful-toned congratulations that sounded odd to Rose's ears, not least because they were filtered through the vocoders of their helmets.

As the Resistance members filed outside, Rose said quietly, "I thought they were going to have some secret meeting about _us_. You know, the Resistance."

Kaydel was wiping her eyes. "We _were_ mentioned."

Finn shook his head. "Not everything in the First Order is about fighting the Resistance. A lot of it isn't, in fact."

"I want to congratulate her," Kaydel said. "Finn, is that okay? Or would that be rude?"

"Huh? No, that's fine. That's normal. There's usually a party after these things, but …" He gestured at their surroundings. Kaydel headed back up the ramp as soon as she had an opening.


	77. Kaydel 4

[Kaydel]

* * *

Kaydel waited until the press of well-wishers began to disperse. She stepped forward. "You have a name now. Congratulations. Can I give you a hug?"

CL- … no, Lady, looked at her, blinking uncertainly. "Yes?"

Kaydel embraced her. She was a stout woman and hard as a rock. Maybe that was the armor. Kaydel gave her an enthusiastic squeeze anyway and parted from her grinning.

Lady started to speak, then sniffed and wiped at her eyes, obviously trying to adopt a little more decorum than she'd had with her unit. "Thank you." She paused for a moment, then asked, "What was your full name again? Will you tell me?"

"Kaydel Ko Connix. But you can call me Kaydel, or Connix, or Kaydel Ko, or Kaydel Connix."

Lady considered that. "Any combination then except your full name?"

Kaydel smiled. "Yes. Where I come from, you're only called your full name like that for formal functions or by family members when you're in big trouble."

"Ah. Names are … funny things."

"Yeah," Kaydel said shyly. "You don't have the wear the helmet either now."

"No." Lady wiggled it under her arm. "But I will."

"So you're going to stick with the armor?"

Lady sighed. "Well. I need the comm screens and the readouts on everyone."

"Isn't that now the job of the staff sergeant? FL …?"

"FL-2216. Yes, it is. You're right. I should … let her do it." Lady looked over to where H-482 and FL-2216 were talking quietly about the duty roster and showering schedule. Which surprised Kaydel that they'd have a duty roster given the situation, but then again, the troopers had a constant rotating perimeter guard with relief and overwatch, scheduled hygiene, now with cooking and food gathering, and whatever other things they were up to. Those tasks were being assigned somehow. It was just that since she wasn't involved, she didn't see most of what went into it.

"It's hard to let go, isn't it?" Kaydel asked.

"Yes. But … I should. I will. That's my duty now."

"Well," Kaydel said, extending a hand, "let me know if you ever need your hair combed."

Lady looked at the hand for a moment like she didn't know what to do with it, then took it in both of hers instead of the one for the handshake Kaydel had been expecting. Lady gave it a careful squeeze and released. "Same. You have … so much more." Her eyes danced over Kaydel's braided crown.

Kaydel looked at her, trying to decide if that was an offer, and took a chance. "Yeah. I, uh, have to comb it every morning."

"Oh. Then … tomorrow?"

Kaydel smiled and bit her lips briefly, her cheeks tight on a suppressed smile. It _had_ been an offer, though small enough that it was easy to overlook. "Tomorrow, Lieutenant."


	78. Rey 10

[Rey]

* * *

Rey took a seat on the sleeping pad across from Kylo. They sat cross-legged. The holocron was between them, but she didn't expect to do anything with it. It was just a focus and an excuse. She'd been surprised when the lie worked. They had just confessed to being cut off from the Force, yet everyone went along with the story that she and Kylo needed to meditate and be excused from wing work.

Maybe the others didn't see meditation as being the same thing as using the Force. It wasn't, after all. And on the other hand, the stormtroopers weren't going to question it if Hux didn't, and Hux was probably running on fumes – broken sleep, night after night, did that to a person. The people on the Resistance side were likewise exhausted from the day before or simply not going to challenge them if they said they wanted privacy. And there were only so many tools to go around.

"So here we are," Rey said when they were both settled in. Kylo nodded. She asked, "Do you think we should reconnect to the Force?"

He shook his head. "Nothing has changed."

"What about Hux's threat?"

Kylo looked lost for a moment. "He didn't threaten us."

"That felt like a threat to me, that he was considering shooting all of us because we couldn't stop him."

"It wasn't," he said dismissively. "It was a joke."

"That's what he considers funny? Killing all of us?"

"Humor in the Order is a bit more black than the rest of the galaxy and his more than most. I'm not defending it."

"I should hope not." She laughed herself, though. She took a deep breath and let it out, letting her mind wander. "If we're not going to reconnect, then it's just us. Here and now."

He nodded, looking wistful. "Always."

That was so soothing to hear. She let out a deep breath, shedding some of her tension and trying to put herself in a meditative frame of mind. Maybe it hadn't been a lie after all. They _did_ need this. People with the power they wielded needed to be centered and that came with understanding, of themselves and each other. "What are we, Kylo, without the Force? What are you? _Who_ are you?"

He considered the question, glancing around as though to make sure they were as alone as they could get under the circumstances. Quietly, he said, "I'm the son of a smuggler, but there's no smuggling ring or crime lord I answer to." After a moment of further reflection, he said, "I'm a prince of Alderaan, but that means nothing. It's a legacy of dust; only words now, empty hope, a meaningless title. In another timeline, I would have been someone."

"You still _are_."

"Am I to you?" he asked, both coy and entreating. She smiled suddenly at him. He was clever, but so understated. She liked that about him. He sounded so pleased as he said, "Ah, I am." He brightened and sat up straighter. Her smile broadened. He said, "Who are you? You're not a nobody anymore. It's only been a week or two, yet my mother and the Resistance think so highly of you now. They imagine you're of use to them. Are you?"

Rey exhaled heavily again, letting her smile fade. He was also painfully incisive, which she also liked, but it hurt to have her illusions stripped away. "I'm not with them to be used."

"But that _is_ what's happening." He tilted his head, giving her a knowing look she couldn't hide from.

"I know," she admitted.

"You brought them the map to Luke Skywalker," he said, not accusing – just stating facts. "You went to fetch him for them. You talked him into showing up on Crait. You shot down their enemy's fighters and evacuated the survivors. You've been of tremendous use to them. They wouldn't have made it without you."

"I did it so my friends would live. So they would survive. Not for _politics_."

"I know," he echoed her earlier answer. "But that _is_ the essence of politics – changing the galaxy so your favored people have advantage. I've seen it over and over with my mother, with Snoke, with Hux."

"It wasn't for advantage," she insisted.

His voice was still soft, but just as insistent as hers. "Being alive is an advantage, isn't it?"

She rolled her eyes in concession. "Okay, yes, I was of use to them."

His leaned back as though satisfied. "Well," he said, "you're not a scavenger any longer. You have to be something. What is it?"

"How do you know I'm not a scavenger any longer?" she argued. "I haven't changed. My past defines me. But it doesn't limit me. Yours …? You _are_ someone – not 'would have been' someone." At his humorless smirk, she said, "You must have grown up surrounded by- You knew people. You had to have. And they knew … who you were, so you benefitted that way, right? Was it _all_ bad?"

"Was it for you, growing up on Jakku?" he said, turning it around on her. "No, don't answer. I know it wasn't. There were people at Niima Outpost you knew all your life. There was a sense of community, even if things were harsh. Nasha would braid your hair. Clendoran made your shoes, your bag, your belt, and other things. You sat around campfires at night talking to the same traders who would come by every month, listening to their stories of the galaxy, of the Rebellion and its heroes, and the whispers of the Resistance."

Rey frowned. "You know my whole past. I don't know yours. Tell me about it. Don't dodge the question again."

"You're right that I knew people," Kylo said. "I knew them too well. My friends were transient. The only constant was Snoke, but he was an easy secret to keep. Too easy. He promised me everything I wanted – companionship most of all – and he was likely why it was difficult for me to keep friends. Between him and the Force, I'm sure I seemed like a distracted, distant child who saw through the others my own age.

"He was better than any real friend could be - everything he said was about me. He was easy to listen to. He doted on me. Everything my parents said was about _them_, or about the galaxy, or about important people they both knew and I didn't – crime lords, planetary governors, senators, ambassadors, war heroes. I didn't fit in their world. I never did."

"But Snoke fit himself into yours?" she said.

"He poisoned every interaction I had," Kylo said.

"And you see that now?" she asked.

He nodded. "Now that he's gone, I see much more than I could before."

"Do you see how unfairly you judge your parents, then?"

Kylo scowled, his upper lip twitching as though he wanted very badly to twist it in anger. He bared his teeth at her. "You barely know them!"

"You barely know them either!"

"That was their choice!" He ground out, "It wouldn't have been so easy for Snoke if they had been there for me."

"Maybe so," she said. "Did you ever explain to them – about Snoke?"

"No, of course not!" He shook his head. "Rey, I was a _child_!" He looked around again, wary of being overhead, especially with his emotions running hot. "They assumed everything odd I did was due to the Force and I assumed they were right!"

"When was the last time you saw them? Your parents? Before lately, I mean."

He sighed. "When my mother took me to Luke's. My father didn't come. I sent them a few holos later. I saw a few back from them. They seemed detached and uninterested. Of course, that's what Snoke told me they were feeling. Over a transmission, I couldn't tell. He wouldn't have said anything that wasn't to his benefit, but they _did_ look detached."

"I'm sorry."

"Well, you've seen them lately," he said snidely. "Apparently so much more than I have. What are they like?"

Buried under the sarcasm was pain. He _did_ want to know. "Your father offered to take me on as crew."

"He never offered that to me," Kylo said bitterly.

"He knew me as an adult. He wouldn't have offered when I was a child. That's all he knew you as." She was quiet for a moment. Kylo was staring at the holocron disconsolately. "It wasn't a good offer. He'd just had most of his crew killed by rathtars that were his idea to transport."

Kylo glanced up at her. "He never did have good … judgment."

One side of her mouth quirked up at how true that was – hauling rathtars, having lost most of his crew, with two separate gangs hot on his heels for money he owed them, and he paused to steal their ship, with the expectation that he'd jettison them (the crew) into space where they might or might not survive. Which allowed both gangs to catch up and the whole fiasco to occur. "What do you remember of him? What was he like to you?"

Kylo huffed softly. "He taught me things – cards, ships, history, scams. He had stories about all of them. He didn't like that he couldn't exaggerate them to me or lie. But he wasn't happy with himself as he was. That was consistent through everything. He wasn't even happy with Mom. He said, 'A princess like her and a guy like me?' He didn't think he measured up, not against her, not against the politicians and everyone else she socialized with. He didn't fit in _her_ world and she didn't in his. I knew how they felt. I couldn't _not_ know. He couldn't see his own value, to me, to anyone. And so he left. People were always so transparent to me. It … made things difficult." He swallowed roughly.

"I understand people leaving you when you don't want them to." He gave her an acknowledging look, but said nothing. She asked softly, "Where do you want to fit? Who do you want to be?"

"What am I now? A monster? A murderous snake? Is there anything else you want to call me?" He gave her a wan smile. She smiled in return, but it was more a wince. She didn't take back her words from a few weeks before. He said, "Supreme Leader and Master of the Knights of Ren? More empty titles. They're meaningless." He was quiet for a while and she didn't interrupt his thoughts. Finally, he said, "I'm just Kylo. I'm still my parent's son, but the name, the legacy – it means nothing. I'd be rid of it if I could be with you."

"No last name?"

"No. I have one," he said with a sly smile. "I'm taking yours."

She laughed in surprise and decided to play along with the pretense that they were married. "Well, what happens if I make a name up or take some other one?" she said archly.

He teased, "Then that will be mine, too."

She pressed her lips together primly, then said, "We'll make one up together, then. For our new family."

His lips parted. He breathed out, "Rey …" She was reminded of how much not a pretense it was.

She pressed her lips together again and nodded, feeling her eyes water unaccountably. She wiped at her eyes. "Maybe … maybe that's premature."

"You saw my future," he said with a note of urgency. "What did you see? Is it?"

She swallowed and told him, trying to put into words something that didn't lend itself to it. "I saw the certainty of our love. I saw how we'll always be together, just as I wanted." It felt too good to be true. Could she really let herself have something like that, after all this time, all those hash marks etched into the wall of the AT-AT on Jakku, waiting for her life to resume?

"Then … it's not. Not premature." He looked back and forth at the floor between them. "Why didn't you take my hand then? If you knew …? In the throne room?"

"My friends were dying. I wasn't going to give them up for you. And we aren't meant to _rule_ together. I don't see us together on a throne. But instead, walking the path of our shared lives. It was _very clear_," she said, the last bit emphatic as though she thought he would argue it. Like maybe he should, and tell her it was false or there was no way it could ever happen.

He reached out, hand up and fingers splayed, palm toward her. She matched him, pressing her smaller hand to his. They both shivered at the sensation. Kylo said, "That's what I want, too. I won't make my father's mistake."

"Which one?" There were, sadly, so many.

"Of living in different worlds. When Hux confronted me about the murder of Snoke – he had his say to me – but all I could think about was you. How if they deposed me, I'd be free to go to you. Even … go to my mother, but it was you that made the difference. You came for me when no one else did."

She entwined her fingers with his. "Why did Snoke bond us to one another if he intended you to kill me?"

"I think he wanted to have me destroy everything that linked me to any other than himself."

"Then why _create_ such a link?" She gripped his hand, confused about this.

"So he could make me destroy it and prove I was utterly his. When I was entirely dark and lost to everyone but him, then my power would be his to control. Perhaps that's what Sidious is going to do with Hux. Maybe that's what we saw in the vision?"

"Why has Sidious come for Hux, and not you or me? Or both of us? We're much more powerful than Hux."

Kylo rubbed his thumb along the top of hers. "It must be genetic. He had clones made of himself. Neither of us are related to him in any way, except that we're human and Force users. Being able to use the Force might make it harder for him, since possession just a hopped-up mind-trick. He's not going to have it easy with Hux."

Rey made a wry expression. "I suppose it's unsurprising that a general, or really anyone who rises to such a position, would be strong-willed."

"You'd be surprised, then. Not so much in his case, but many of my mother's associates were easily led. They were promoted for that purpose. I saw the same in Snoke's other generals. It's no wonder that without Snoke or myself, Hux is the only one capable of holding the Order together."

"Is there … is there some element of the Force in your mother's political career? In her leadership?"

"I think so."

"Hm. Does she know?"

"It's who she is. Is there some element of the Force in your departure from Jakku? In your current 'career'?" He added gently, "Of course, there is. It's who you are. You have to learn to live with that. Let it 'define you' as you said. But not limit you."

"I will." Her voice was faint, remembering the fear she'd confessed to Luke on Ach-to. "I will," she said stronger. "But what of Sidious? We should plan. What if he attacks one of us and turns us against the other, like Snoke tried to do?"

Kylo shrugged. "We share a bond. Snoke tried to turn us against one another, but he didn't try to possess either of us and clearly he knew the secrets of it." Kylo gestured at the holocron with his free hand. "If he did try, he wouldn't be trying to possess one person, he'd be trying to possess two. Two Force users at once?" Kylo shook his head. "The Force may not have limits, but the people using it do."

"Two versus one?" she said, an idea forming in her head. Her grip on his hand slackened.

Kylo nodded. "We're not alone. Snoke's order would only have worked if I were willing. He couldn't force me to it and he knew that. That's why he wanted to me do it voluntarily."

Rey nodded. "Yes, but … hear me out. I have an idea." She pulled her hand back from holding his and let it rest on her knee. "Poe and Hux have found each other. They seem to have an affinity. What if … we bridged their minds like Snoke did for us and created a bond between them?"

Kylo stiffened at the suggestion. "They … can't use the Force."

"But the Force is in all of us. Just because they can't _use_ it doesn't mean their lives aren't already interwoven with it. My only question is if they would want it. It's a lifelong commitment. I know Poe would make that sacrifice if he thought he had to. I think he already has – made that choice – thoughtfully and intentionally. But what about Hux?"

"Hux is no stranger to lifelong commitments," Kylo said. "It's all he's ever known. Here we are stranded and he's still playing general. He is a very driven and determined man. Poe would have to accept what Hux is to be bonded to him. And vice versa."

"We can show them how."

"We know Sidious possesses Hux."

"We know he _tries_," she corrected him.


	79. Rose 5

[Rose]

* * *

"Ugh. I can't." Rose tossed the bracket on the hull of the shuttle, frustrated with her inability to bend it back into shape. The crash had twisted it beyond usability.

"Let me see," Hux said, picking it up and examining it. Rose gave him a skeptical look. He was still wearing his rumpled uniform (although she really couldn't speak on that regard – hers had so many holes in it from the bug attack that Kaydel had liberated one of the 'stock officer uniforms' on her behalf; not that Rose was wearing that yet – she intended to change into it after the repairs were done rather than immediately dirty it). But regardless of their relative states of dress, she was pretty sure Hux was a skinny-armed weakling under his outfit. He struggled ineffectually with the bracket, confirming her opinion.

"We should send it down to Poe or Chewbacca," she told him. Chewie's fingers were human-sized, or at least the final two joints on them were. She'd heard that under the fur were retractable climbing claws and thicker digits to support them. She believed C'ai's fingers were too large to hook inside the thing and get leverage.

Speaking of which, Hux shook his head and said, "No, Poe can hardly move. We just need the right tool for leverage. What do we have?"

She handed him the multi-spanner. "So. You're concerned about Poe being sore, but not Chewbacca?"

He grimaced and fussed with the part. "I don't understand why such favoritism would even be in question."

"Because not all of us are favored. We want things fair. Not just 'fair to the people with blasters'. Fair to everyone."

He glanced around them as though concerned about being overheard. And they might have been overheard – Poe, C'ai, and Chewbacca were a few meters back and below them working on the wing from the ground up. He knew that, but the people he looked at were his own. He turned to her and lowered his voice. "Why should it be fair for the people without blasters?"

She blinked at him, but she humored whatever paranoia he had by matching her volume to his. "Because you can't keep blasters trained on people all the time."

He blinked back at her, looking as perplexed as she felt. "Yes, you can." She just stared at him, trying to make sense of that. Haltingly, he continued, "We have. For decades. And the Empire before that." He swallowed. "Always."

"It's not _right_," she told him. He sighed, but surprisingly, he didn't argue. He just went back to struggling with the bracket. She looked over at a pair of stormtroopers standing watch. Finn hadn't talked about the structures in place that kept millions of armed troopers pacified and obedient, not even with her, but she knew they had to be there. "You don't sound proud of it," she said, still looking at the troopers.

"I'm not."

She looked back to him. "Then stop doing it." He gave her a guarded expression. She told him, "There was something before the Empire, you know: the Republic. _They_ didn't live like that."

He made a small shrug. "I have reason to believe my history courses were biased. As I will assume yours were. I doubt there's such a thing left in the galaxy as an impartial record."

She frowned. "That's a big assumption. And a false one."

He shrugged again. "How would you know?"

She ticked off the evidence. "There are long-lived species who can tell their personal experiences. There are direct records of events. There are experts whose reputations are based on honest recounting, tested by peers and public testimony." With an edge to her voice, she said, "I _had_ a good education on Hayes Minor, before you bombed it." She said that last bitterly. She could have become an engineer or a scientist. She'd been too young to settle on a specialty, but she'd always been sharp and completed her studies.

He didn't react visibly. Instead he said, "Those are good reasons." He turned the bracket in his hand. "How critical is it that we get this straightened?"

She felt like they'd been arguing and he'd conceded, but she wasn't sure what the point of the argument was. That the Republic had existed? That the galaxy had had a reign of peace for nearly a thousand years that had brought prosperity and well-being to many? How was that something Hux was unsure of? What kind of history did a person get in the First Order? Obviously one that even General Hux thought was propaganda. To his question, she said, "We don't have a replacement and we need it. Send it down. Maybe Chewbacca can fix it."

He scooted to the edge of the hull, looking down in the gap that still existed between the shorn wing and the rest of the ship. "Poe?"

She did a frustrated face-palm. "What do you have against him?"

"Poe?"

"No," Rose said. "Chewbacca!"

"I can't speak with him."

"He understands _you_. Hand it to _him_."

Hux eyed her. There was no question from her tone that it was a demand. Belatedly, she realized giving him an order was not the way his world worked. But even knowing that, she was too angry about the persistent disrespect to other life forms to take it back.

Below, Poe said, "Ah, in any case, I'm not tall enough to reach it. Chewie is," and confirming they'd been listening.

Hux turned back to the edge, fingering the bracket restlessly. Chewbacca growled and extended a long arm. Hux placed the bracket in it.

To Chewie, Poe said, "Okay, yeah, that's twisted. Let's see what's in the tool kit." They walked out of sight behind the wing.

"Is Basic the only language you know?" Rose asked.

"The First Order does not prioritize outside languages." It wasn't an answer, but on the other hand, even she conceded it was a nosy question. Hux turned and gestured to the part of the wing they'd been working on before she'd fished out the warped bracket. "What's next?"

She turned to the business at hand and laid herself on her back to reach her arm inside the wing. "There should be," she grumbled, "a cable for the sensor relay in- wait, there. I … I feel it." With a frustrated noise, she pressed herself to the opening even though the edge was jagged metal and the fabric of her mock First Order uniform wasn't thick enough to be good padding.

She managed to brush the side of the cable, then curl her fingertips around it. Something else touched her knuckles, but she was easing back, relieving the pressure off her chest and shoulder where she'd crammed it against the opening. Something touched her knuckles again, feather-light. She froze, perplexed. Was it another wire, connected to this one, flopping around as she moved the one she had? She could almost see it in her mind.

The cable she had wasn't going anywhere, so she let go and reached back in, making a slow sweep with her hand to explore the narrow opening. She touched something wire-like. She tried to grab it. Something grabbed her, instead.

She yelped and rolled back, yanking her arm out. There was a creature on it, one of the rounder crab-like ones, and it was bearing down on one of her fingers with its pincer, endeavoring to snip it off. She flailed her hand about, but the thing was fantastically strong. The flapping of her hand wrenched her finger painfully as the heavy crab did not let go. "It's biting my finger off! It's biting my finger off!"

"Here!" Hux said. "Put it here!" He pointed at the hull. There were sounds of concern and alarm from below as well, but no one would be able to get to them quickly.

Hux produced a knife from somewhere, or a stiletto. She'd seen it before when he'd pulled it on C'ai. She thrust her hand, crab and all, in front of him. He stabbed downward, skewering it through the center-rear of the shell. The knife made a 'plink!' noise like breaking glass. She pulled her hand back, but the crab came with it.

"Oh no!" she said … but her finger was still attached. It hurt, but not the way she thought it would if it were being bitten in two. The knife blade had sliced a neat line from where it had stabbed to the end of the crab. The bug-like creature continued as though unaware it had been cut. It was grabbing at her other fingers with other, smaller claws.

"It's still-!" She gave it a wave that ended with a thunk against the hull of the ship. Fluid spattered from the cut, but the thing _still_ held on. The flailing and wrenching was hurting her more than the pincher.

"Bring it back," Hux said, voice almost as alarmed as she felt. "I'll- I'll do better."

She did and this time he squashed it flat to the hull with one hand and with the knife in the other (or what was left of the knife), carefully cut the claw from the thing's body. He must have cut the tendons in the process, because the thing finally released.

"Ow!" she said, cradling her hand.

Below, Finn said, "Did he just cut her finger off?" They had no line of sight to what had happened. Poe said something she couldn't make out.

The crab wasn't dead. It still scrabbled under Hux's hand. He threw it off the hull and away from them. Rose called after it, "Good riddance!" To the others, she said, "No, I'm fine!" She didn't feel fine, though. She winced.

"There are bugs in the wing?" Finn asked.

"There are bugs in the wing," Poe responded matter-of-factly.

"Let me see," Hux said with surprising gentleness. Rose swallowed and looked down at her hand herself before letting him look. The tissue on either side where the pincher had gripped her was bruised and red with a few spots where it had broken the skin. But otherwise there was nothing to see. She showed it to him. "Is it broken? May I touch it?"

She nodded. "I don't think it's broken. It hurts. The knuckle hurts. I think I sprained it by waving it around."

He touched her hand carefully, rotating the digit slightly, but she didn't have the impression that he knew what he was doing. Even so, he was trying and that mattered. At the end of the shuttle where the climbing pegs were, Kaydel called out, "Do I need to come up there?"

Rose called out, "No, I said I'm okay. I am."

Hux let go and eased back. He made an amused sound as he regarded his knife. Only half the blade remained. The other half was still stuck in the hull. "Weren't you the one who wanted me to refrain from killing that first one? The other night when one investigated me on the log?"

She grimaced at him. "Okay, yeah, I was. But I draw the line on letting things eat me."

"You draw the line somewhere, then. Us, and them."

She started to object. She wanted to, just because of who he was and the implication that they were on the same side. "Yes. But … 'us' doesn't have to be just the First Order. It can be all of us."

"Except for the ones that want to devour us and leave nothing behind?"

"Palpatine?" she guessed he meant. He nodded. She told him, "Yes."

He was quiet for a while, then began to move past her. "Then let's trade places. We all need to get off this planet. Your hands are more valuable than mine."

"Wait, what are you …?" She turned. He was where she'd been lying when she'd put her arm inside the wing. "We need to check that. There might be more of them!"

"What would we do if there are? It's too narrow to fire into with stun charges. There are too many valuable components. We don't have replacement parts. I wouldn't even want to jam a stick around in there." When she hesitated, he said, "You wanted this to be fair."

"Yes, but fair doesn't mean stupidly endangering yourself."

"It's not stupid!" he said hotly.

"Don't lose your temper." She leaned over the side. "Chewbacca? Can you hand up the pry bar and a light?"

"I won't have enough hands to use both," Hux grumbled behind her as she collected the tools.

"You won't have to," she said, lying on the hull in the opposite direction he was, her head next to his. She handed him the pry bar. "I'll spotlight them. You get them to grab that. Then we yank them out and throw them away. Teamwork: both of us, against them."

"Hm," he said, arranging himself to do it. "Better plan."

"Much better."

He didn't disagree.


	80. Lady 6

[Lady]

* * *

"Sensors are back online," Lady said cheerfully, then less so: "And … now they're back off." She'd been sitting at the console reading up on stuff that was 'officer's eyes only', which amounted to being mildly classified. The information on galactic politics and geography was much more detailed than it was for troopers. She kept reading as the sensor panel flickered on and off several times over the next few minutes.

When it finally stayed lit, she switched the main screen to the sensor suite and checked to see if there were any readings. The screen began filling up with information – the weather systems, the nearby geology, the planet, the star system, their galactic coordinates – they were out in the middle of nowhere, which didn't surprise her much.

If they'd been anywhere traveled, by now, someone would have come to check the crash site for salvage. That they hadn't meant 'middle of nowhere.' Space was big. Despite the thriving intergalactic population and trade, there was a lot more nowhere in it than somewhere.

She didn't see any ships in sensor range. She scrolled back up. The weather looked boring – no major fronts headed their way. No major fronts, period. She flicked past atmospheric facts she didn't understand. The geology … She lingered there, even though she didn't understand it much better. What she did understand wasn't making sense. She expanded the data, then reached over for her helmet and plunked it on. "Teller? Come up here."

FN-9013 came in right away, having most likely been at the bottom of the ramp with FL-2216. The FN crew was on guard duty at the moment, with the Old Man's squad either taking a rest break, showering, or canvassing for more edible plants like they'd had with breakfast. That meant FN-9013 would have been at the ramp as a central location, doing overwatch with FL-2216 as backup.

"Sir."

Lady slid out of the pilot's chair and waved Teller into it. "Look at that and tell me what you see." She set the helmet aside and leaned over Teller's shoulder.

"Sensors are up?"

"Yes," Lady said. "For now."

FN-9013 scrolled through it and refined the readings somewhat. "Wow, we're on … a lot of organic material."

"That's what I thought. That's not … dirt, is it?"

"Nope. It's organized. Look here." She pointed at a scan of the ground beneath them. "There's a network. It goes deep. Clicks down. Those look like roots. Some kind of latticework. Or … a skeleton."

"A … skeleton. Is it an animal or a plant?"

"No. I think it's a fungus – a mycozoid. According to this," she pointed at the text descriptions of how the ship's computer classified the scanner output.

"So we're on a massive mushroom."

"A mycozoid is more organized than that. Look at this structure." She pointed at an interlocking webbing of lines that didn't make much sense to Lady. "Do you see that? It's a support structure."

"To hold it up? Or so it can move?"

"There's more there than it would need just to support it."

"Uh … huh."

Teller added, "The general said it moved when the … when Rey cut the tree with a lightsaber."

"How big is it?"

FN-9013 panned out. "As far as the short range sensors reach, the webbing is still there. Those trees are spikes of some kind. Why would it need spikes?" she said the last to herself.

"Is it all one creature?" Lady asked. "Is it intelligent?"

"How would I know?"

"You're the exobiologist."

"It's a hobby. I'm not a technician. Sir," she said, obviously trying to be respectful while not having the information Lady wanted. "And usually I study things that can talk, along with their culture and stuff, if I can get it."

"You know more about it than I do. Is this a danger to us?"

"It hasn't been so far."

"That's not comforting."

Teller shrugged. "Aliens are weird. That's why I study them. This is _definitely _weird. Can I get a copy of this?"

"The readings?" Lady said. "Sure. Then go back to your post." She didn't think this would impact their situation, but it was something to think about. They were a flea on the back of a giant.


	81. Teller 4

[Teller]

* * *

She passed FL-2216 on her way out, heading straight over to the survival kit that had been brought outside with breakfast and not yet returned to the shuttle. Teller dug through it, coming up with the collapsible shovel she'd expected to find. FL-2216 made no challenge to this, probably assuming she'd been given orders to do whatever she was doing.

She had not. But she was excited. She'd seen something new and strange and wanted to know more. She'd kept a lid on it while in front of the lieutenant, but now she was on her own, heady with enthusiasm. They were on top of some kind of monstrous creature the size of … the size of a small moon.

She walked off in the direction of the undamaged wing, getting away from the milling Resistance people working on the other one. Sharps was on guard over here, looking phenomenally bored if she read his body language correctly. He was leaned against one of the trees, blaster in hand but head tipped enough that she wondered if he was dozing.

"Psst. Sharps?"

He looked over, then jerked a bit in surprise. "What are you doing?"

"Private channel." She pointed at her helmet emphatically, then cut her hand downward, then held it parallel to the ground at gut level. They needed to keep this under cover.

He grunted and reset his comm as directed.

"Okay," she said. "I saw some stuff on the scanners and I wanted to get a look for myself. These trees are more like hairs or spines." She moved over to the base of one of them, unfolded the shovel, and started digging. "I want to see the base of them, to see if they have independent musculature like I think they do."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing. I just … Just watch."

"You or … for commanders?"

She noted how keeping an eye out for dangerous wildlife wasn't even on his list of things to look out for. Well, it wasn't what she was worried about, either. "Keep an eye out for commanders."

"Got it."

She dug. The ground was loose and at first, she wondered if the scan had been wrong. This wasn't dirt, but instead accumulated organic material. Humus, compost maybe. Leaf litter. She didn't actually know any of those words because her exobiology was focused more on aliens than alien ecosystems (or any ecosystem), but she could see that what she was digging through wasn't part of a living creature. Maybe it was dandruff.

She dug closer to the tree, starting at the ground level and working down. There was no fuzz underground. The surface of it was smooth and blue-grey. It looked a bit venous – like skin. She had a hole as deep as her forearm when something shifted on the next scrape of the shovel. "Oh!"

Sharps looked in the hole as well. FN-9013 knelt and used her hands. The stuff was loose enough to just brush out of the way. There was something round at the bottom, about the size of a helmet.

Sharps asked, "You're not going to get pulled into a pit and eaten, are you? I would really miss those stories you tell at lights-out. I've missed them just while we've been stranded here."

"No, I'm going to be fine. But do you see this? It's a nodule of some kind." She loosened the soil all around it. "No, wait. It's not connected. What is it?" She lifted the thing. It wasn't as heavy as stone. Once she got it up, she could see it was segmented all the way around, with a seam halfway through it. It was otherwise roundish, like an egg. She followed the seam around. "What do you think- AAAH!"

The seam split and dozen spiny legs reached out for her arm, snagging on the join of armor and body glove. She fell on her ass, flailed immediately, and the thing went flying. Sharps shot it in the air – once, twice, and another shot that went past it into a tree. All around them, the ground shuddered. Behind them, the ship creaked slightly as it adjusted.

There was a long moment of frozen silence.

"Why did you shoot it? You didn't have to shoot it!" Teller said in a forced whisper, even though her comm was still set to private so only Sharps would hear her.

Sharps didn't get a chance to answer before Lady's voice was in their ear: "Report! Who fired? At what?"

Sharps toggled his helmet. "Sir. FN-9037. It's, uh, stand-down situation. Just a … a wildlife. Out of the dirt."

"Just one?" Lady demanded.

"Just one, sir," he said. "Neutralized."

Teller could see the black hair of the shortest Resistance member over the top of the shuttle, looking down on them. Embarrassingly, the orange hair of the general was next to her. Of all the people to be a direct witness to her doing something she wasn't supposed to be doing! She scrambled to her feet.

"Heads up," FN-9037 said next to her.

Teller saw FL-2216 coming toward them at a sedate walk. Teller tried to hide the shovel behind her. There was no hiding the hole she'd dug, though. "I have it, Lieutenant," FL-2216 said. "I don't see any danger. I do see a discipline problem, though."

"All yours, then," Lady said, and clicked out of the conversation, taking full advantage of her newly-bestowed rank and having no interest in being part of unit drama.

"What are you doing?" FL-2216 asked. She sounded disappointed and put out.

"I was, um." Teller reached up and reset her comm off private, though she knew that broadcast her humiliating breach of protocol to everyone. "I was following up on scanner readings of the subsoil." Yep, that sounded scientific and respectable, right?

Unfortunately, she'd served with FL-2216 for most of a year. The staff sergeant had her number. "Were you ordered to do that?"

"Nn … No sir."

FL-2216 said in an exasperated tone, "Put the shovel up. Go inside." Teller skulked off. She'd get her reprimand in private, but that didn't really help the way she felt for getting caught doing something independent. Independence wasn't allowed in the Order. She'd been told that … enough, but it just didn't seem to sink in with her. She heard the next exchange, of FL-2216 with Sharps. "What did you shoot?"

"Over here, sir."

"What is it?"

"Uh, something she dug up. Looks like a bug."

"Did it attack her?"

"I think so. She picked it up."

"She _picked it up_?" FL-2216's dubious tone made Teller cringe as she cleaned off the shovel and packed it away under the curious eyes of the Resistance people. She didn't blame Sharps. He was required to answer questions and there shouldn't be any loyalty between them.

There _was_ – there _always_ was and the traumatized reactions of DL-1364 to losing her squad on the _Supremacy_, and the more subtle ones of the entire second fire team to losing Ten-ten (whom they'd known for no more than three weeks), were proof of that. But this was trivial. All she would get was a talking to and Sharps needn't go out of his way to defend her from it. Since she (FN-9013) outranked him, she was the only one in trouble of the two of them.

As she put away the shovel, Finn asked her, "What happened?"

She straightened, having not noticed he was there until he spoke. Previously, he'd been sitting on the repulsor-lift and using it to bring tools to people as needed, which generally meant just sitting there watching the rest work. She told him, "I'm … supposed to go inside."

"But what happened? Tell me. Is everything okay?"

She sighed. "I dug up a bug and it scared me. So FN-9037 shot it."

"You dug up a bug? Why were you digging up bugs?"

She made a helpless motion and turned to go into the shuttle. He bumped her on the elbow for attention and stopped her. "Hey! Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she said. "I'll get a demerit. That's it."

"For digging up bugs?"

"I wasn't _ordered_ to do it. I don't know why I do things I'm not supposed to! I just do them! Then I get in trouble for them." It was frustrating. As was the fact that even _this_ conversation was going to everyone and if she turned it off, it would look doubly suspicious.

"Hey, it's okay," he tried to be understanding.

"No, it's not!"

"I know what you mean. Entirely. I got written up all the time for things I wasn't supposed to be doing."

She sighed again. "Is that why you left?"

Finn opened his mouth and shut it, considering. "Kinda. I left because there are some orders a person shouldn't follow. But … I don't want to get you into more trouble for listening to me. If you're okay, then, you know. Go get your demerit." He pointed at his ear and made a half-nod toward her, a 'do you get me?' head gesture. The stormtrooper's body language had evolved for more reasons than conveying emotion while wearing a mask. Avoiding surveillance was another part of it. He was telling her they could talk later, privately.

She nodded and tromped up the ramp.

"Okay guys," Finn's voice lingered behind her. "We're good. Let's get back to work."


	82. Poe 8

[Poe]

* * *

When no one provided him any answers, Poe went to get them for himself. He found the spot easily enough. The stormtrooper on guard duty on this side was still standing next to a hole in the ground at the base of one of the trees. He glanced back at Poe, then went back to watching his designated sector. The disinterest was a good sign, Poe thought.

"Hey," Poe said. "What's your name? Or designation?"

"FN-9037." The answer came promptly enough – a big change from just two days before where they wouldn't talk at all.

"Good to know. What happened here, FN-9037?" It didn't look like much – a hole a half meter deep, dug down next to the tree trunk. The 'bark' of the tree became smooth and funny-looking further down. He squatted to get a look at that while the stormtrooper hesitated.

It didn't seem to be a lack of willingness to answer, because the trooper was facing him, looking at him, and paying attention. Poe wasn't being ignored. Maybe it just took a while for the trooper to decide what to say. "FN-9013 was investigating the, um, subsoil. She encountered a bug. It crawled on her. She threw it aside. I shot it."

"Huh. What was she looking for?"

"I don't know."

Poe walked over to where the bug in question lay. It was decently sized. He picked it up, noting that it had an exceptionally large caliber hole in it – just the one hole. He'd heard three shots, but then again, Poe would have been dead ten times over if stormtroopers could reliably hit what they were aiming at. He carried it over to the trooper. "What sort of weapon is that?"

"Heavy blaster rifle."

He'd noticed the gun before, but hadn't had a chance to ask questions about it. "That's not standard issue, is it?"

"I'm a weapons specialist. This is my weapon."

"It blew a pretty big hole in this thing. The ones we shot at the wing site took more than one hit to penetrate."

He tilted his head forward and to the side slightly. Poe held up the bug for inspection, since that seemed to be what he was doing. "That's why I hit it twice." He pointed.

"Twice?" Poe looked at the hole. If they were overlapping impacts, then they had to have been right on top of each other. "Ah. That's good shooting."

"I missed once."

"While it was in the air?"

"All shots were while it was in the air."

Poe hesitated. "Are you putting me on? Did you seriously hit it in the exact same spot twice, in the air, from surprise?"

"Believe what you want." The trooper turned away.

"Hey, hey." Poe put up his hands, but as far as he could tell, the guy wasn't looking at him. "What I want … to believe," he said with some difficulty, "is that you're telling the truth." The trooper didn't move. Poe added, "I wish we'd had you with us yesterday."

At that, he animated a little. "I wish I'd been there, too. TN-1017 was also a weapons specialist, though he focused on melee. He and I … we'd been practicing together."

Poe nodded slowly. "I'm sorry your friend died." FN-9037 was silent. "Is 'friend' the wrong word to use?" More silence. "Can I call him that?"

"You can call him that."

Poe nodded slowly. According to Finn, friendship was actively discouraged. So maybe FN-9037 couldn't call him that, but Poe could. Poe asked, "Where did the third shot go?"

"Into a tree." FN-9037 moved over a few steps and raised his blaster to combat ready position. Poe was well to his side and out of line of fire. Not that he pulled the trigger. He seemed to be mentally recreating the shot. The trooper lowered his weapon and strode forward confidently. "Right here." He pointed to an oozing mark on the trunk.

Poe came over to examine it. He put his finger in the stuff, sniffing it and then tasting. It definitely had a flavor, but it was hard to categorize. Maybe dirty engine oil mixed with sugar water and a kind of meaty, musty aftertaste? He made a face.

Next to him, FN-9037 stripped off a glove, then his helmet, and tasted it, too. Poe studied him, interested to see him automatically copy what Poe had done. He was a normal enough looking guy – lighter skinned, same age as Finn, and looked to be about as much of a meathead. "Ew," he said of the taste.

"Yeah - ew," Poe responded. "I don't see what the bugs see in it. Might be why they prefer us."

"Maybe it exudes this to discourage the bugs?"

"That's an idea." Poe walked back to where the dead bug was, lifting it up. Aside from the hole, most of the body was intact. "You going to eat this?"

"I hope not." The trooper put his helmet back on and returned to where he'd been standing watch.


	83. Flag

[Flag]

* * *

Disciplinary issues had rarely been part of her purview and never officially. Officially, such had always gone to the first sergeant as the unit commander. FL-2216, as staff sergeant, had not been the one actually doing anything about problems. Previously, all she'd had to do was stand there and watch CL-0745 deal with them.

Things like FN-9037 (Sharps) trying to fix a botched blaster modification job in his bunk using a hammer and keeping everyone awake? That wasn't her business. FN-9021 (Bigs) switching the armor chest pieces as a prank? Not her problem. FN-9048 (Blaze) being technically underweight for a trooper? She looked the other way. FN-9028 (Major) tattling about everyone else? Yeah, well, he'd earned that name.

She didn't know fire team 2 (the Old Man's group) well enough to have a laundry list of complaints about them, but she knew the Old Man hadn't asked for his position and didn't want it, Ten-ten was dead, Donner kept bullying Blaze (and Bigs was hot about it), DL-1364 was mentally checked out, and FO-1282 had just joined them, like, days ago. Apparently, she wasn't even human, but she filled the armor and that was what mattered. 'Meat on the feet', as they said.

But if she had to go over the entire crew, she'd have to say that FN-9013, Teller, was the hardest for her to figure out what to do with as a brand-new commander. Teller was the least likely in the batch to follow a direct order, the most likely to ask stupid questions, and the most beloved by everyone. These were not unrelated. Months ago, Lady had taken one good look at the squad and promoted Teller, right above FN-9037 who was the obvious candidate by scoring and FN-9028 who was desperate for the rank but everyone (even him!) agreed would be a disaster if he got it.

"I ought to ask the lieutenant why _you_ were promoted to team leader," Flag said. She'd heard of this as a disciplinary method – demanding subordinates justify and explain themselves, often with a helping of shaming them. The lieutenant didn't use it often. Instead, she relied on acting disappointed in people. And occasionally angry, depending on how stupid they'd been. "Do _you_ know?"

FN-9013, standing at attention in the main compartment of the shuttle and no doubt shaking in her boots, made a tiny shake of her head.

Flag paced in front of her. "I know if I ask her, she'll tell me to think about it. I'm not very good at that. She tells me I need to practice. For me, it's easier to talk through things. You seem to think a lot. Does it come easy?"

FN-9013 shrugged – another small, uncertain motion. This was their first interaction as direct commander and subordinate. Figuring out how she was supposed to respond was as new to FN-9013 as the whole 'taking people to task' thing was for FL-2216.

Flag said, "Your team follows you well. No one seems to resent your command. You do a good job of relaying orders. You communicate what you need. You're more lax with regulation breakers than I think you should be, but not to the point of it being more than a style difference." She stopped in front of Teller. "That would indicate you have good judgment. But if that's true, then why in Sloane's name did you go digging up bugs and jeopardizing this entire mission at the first second you had an opportunity!?"

FN-9013 gave no answer and the armor concealed most signs of emotion. She stayed tensely at attention, helmet pointed forward instead of the more attentive tip toward Flag.

"You do understand, don't you, what _could_ have happened?" Flag took a step closer. "The ground _rippled_. What if that had destabilized the repulsors and dumped that wing section one way or the other? On the ground we'd lose most of the people capable of repairing it, and our pilots. On the shuttle, we'd lose the general and the chief repairperson. Do you see that? Do you see what could have happened? What _nearly_ happened?"

"Yes sir." It was quiet.

"Good. Because that's not the only thing that could have happened. What if they'd been welding it? What if the general had his arm in the wing when the shuttle shifted and broke his shoulder or even tore it off? We have no med-bay here! What if they'd accidentally damaged irreplaceable components because you'd been 'digging up bugs'? And for what? Just to look at them?!"

"I- sir."

"What?" she snapped.

"I shouldn't have."

"We both know that! That stunt could have ruined everything! This is not a case of failing to search a technician's toolkit when he was clearly smuggling tranqs! This is rolling a die to see if we all get stranded here forever, what's left of us! What did you think would happen? What were you looking for that was worth it?"

"I …"

"What?" she demanded.

"I just wanted to know."

"Well, stop!"

"Yes sir."

That was clearly just a 'yes sir' to agree, end things, and resolve nothing. "_Are_ you going to stop?"

To her credit, Teller was honest. "I don't know how, sir." Her voice broke on the sir.

Flag sighed. She didn't like the pang she felt. "I don't know how, either." She needed to wrap this up. Making her subordinates cry wasn't helpful. "Think about that and get back to me. Maybe you have an answer, because I sure don't."

"Yes sir. When do you want an answer?"

"Do you have one?"

"No." She sounded like she'd recovered her composure, at least.

"What do you think I should do?" Flag challenged, half serious, because she didn't know how to deal with a problem that was, possibly, a core part of someone's personality. And the emotional flogging this had turned into was unsettling. How did Lady deal with this crap?

Teller's answer was immediate: "Apply the demerit and dismiss me."

"Will that fix the problem?" She was dubious.

"No. But the problem is manageable."

"The problem is 'manageable'?" Of course, Teller would think so. It sounded like a means to get out of trouble for what was obviously a long-standing pattern – another 'yes sir' to agree and do nothing.

Teller said, "I'll … practice. Like what the lieutenant said for you to do." Flag stared at her, suspicious about having her own words turned around on her, but intrigued at the implication that maybe there was something that could be done. Teller continued, "We can … talk things out? If that works better for you? Before I … You know, when I have a question."

So. Would that work? Why was her subordinate giving _her _advice on how to lead? It wasn't supposed to work that way. Was she allowed to take it? Was this a big enough deal that she shouldn't take the advice? And if she didn't take it, then what was she to do instead? "Huh. I'll apply the demerit. You're dismissed."

Teller gave her the raised fist salute, pivoted smartly, and left. Flag stood there silently, trying to deal with the feeling she'd been out-maneuvered somehow, along with the impression that this was a much better solution than humiliating her people. Maybe just asking them to solve their own problems was the way to do it. It was something to think about.


	84. The Old Man 5

[The Old Man]

* * *

"Hey," Teller said over the comm as she took her place next to H-482. She'd been assigned extra guard duty as an additional punishment, which only meant she ended up standing in a different place. It wasn't a rough job.

"Hey," the Old Man answered.

"Distract me so I don't get in trouble again."

"You have a really high opinion of my abilities. How am I supposed to do that?"

"With a story. Tell me how you know so much about Wookiees."

"Oo, a story," Bigs cut in, because they were talking on the open channel. It was polite to ignore chatter you weren't involved in, but not required. And if he were relating something everyone wanted to hear anyway, then of course they'd chime in.

"That's a long story," the Old Man said.

Teller said, "We're going to be standing guard for hours while they weld on that wing."

He sighed and shifted his weight. Over the comm, Blaze said, "Hours. Talk."

The Old Man sighed again. "You aren't even _on_ guard duty right now, FN-9048."

"Which only means I'm even more bored," Blaze told him.

Donner, from the Old Man's own team, put in, "He said yesterday he learned about Wookiees from a Dowutin slavemaster."

"Slave-_handler_," the Old Man corrected.

Teller asked, "How does a race like the Wookiees end up as slaves? They're big, strong, intelligent – I don't get it."

"Fragged by their own grenade for that one."

"What's that mean?"

"Eh … well, in this case … Fine, I'll tell you." Muted cheers met this over the comm. He gave a resigned head wobble and began. "First off, you have to understand that Wookiees are tribal. They have a powerful sense of personal and community honor. That's the grenade. Now as to the fragging … Listen."

Attentive silence met him. He continued, "The Empire had this scheme, see? They'd hire a bunch of bad guys, villains, space trash, whoever. Disposables. They'd pile them up with weapons and send them down to Kashyyyk – that's the Wookiee's home world – with orders to round up the Wookiees, scare the crap out of them, threaten them with whatever – skinning was a big deal; talking about it, that is. Like there was some big market for Wookiee fur. Ha.

"You have to avoid killing them, though, because they will fight to the death if you get them set off. These guys just need to put a lot of pressure on them and make them _think_ they're all going to die. Then right as they're about to load up the first batch for skinning or vivisecting or whatever the bad guys have said they were going to do? That's when the Empire comes in. Guns blazin'.

"And whoever's in charge is in the front, no mask, making sure their name is said over and over, making sure they personally kill some of these bad guys they hired and save the Wookiees. Release them. Let them all go with no conditions. Make some announcements about how that person personally promises they're free and safe now. That they'd heard news of an entire Wookiee settlement wiped out by these bad guys and that person came here to stop them from doing it again here."

"That," Teller said slowly, "sounds … good?"

The Old Man chuckled. "Yeah, but here's the fragging part. That imperial hangs around. It might take a day or two, might only be hours, but the Wookiees will show up to pledge their everlasting loyalty to the person who saved them. A life debt, they call it. Everyone in the community who thinks their life was saved by that person? They owe them."

"Oh," she said. "Now I see."

"You do, don't you?" he asked. There were some other murmurs over the comm. He continued, "They promise to do anything for them, and the imperial says, 'Well, as a matter of fact, I have this one little job that needs some heavy labor and you guys would be perfect for it. Real short, but on a planet a long way off from here. The Empire can transport you there and you can honorably discharge your debt with a token bit of service. No big deal.'"

"'Token'," Teller said.

"Yep. So, you guys all know how this ends."

"No, tell us!" Bigs said. Blaze chimed in with him and so did Spots.

The Old Man shook his head, though none could see that other than Teller. "They ship the Wookiees to wherever. The imperial who saved them tells them there's a worksite manager they have to obey. And then the imperial karks off. Gone. Ships out. Disappears. The Wookiees are honor bound to do what they were told by the one who saved them, but that person _leaves_. They're left in the hands of a slave-handler who collars and tags them on the spot.

"Of course, that's not enough to keep them in line, but you don't need even that. They can't refuse without dishonoring themselves. It's a life debt. No amount of working will end it unless the person it's owed to says it's enough. And that person is gone so they can't possibly talk to them and clear things up. Probably gone back to Kashyyyk to pull the same stunt all over again, but they don't know that.

"What they don't know is the whole thing was staged from the get-go. They figure it out eventually, after they find out from other slaves, but even then they can't go back unless they think they can convince everyone they left behind it was a set-up. They don't know what's going on back home or who knows what. The Empire leaves behind the ones who wouldn't be good workers anyway – younglings, elderly, the feeble, the gravid. The very ones they don't want to disappoint. The warriors – the slaves – don't want to go back to the most important people in their tribe and accuse the person everyone else saw as a savior. It's more honorable to just keep their head down and work.

"Anyway, that's how so many Wookiees ended up enslaved. They just walked into it, one community after another. And since they're so tribal and insular about it, the towns don't talk to each other much. They like hearing about the rest of the galaxy because we're not Wookiees, but other Wookiees, especially ones outside their tribe, are strangers and they get pretty hot if they're forced to deal with them outside of a life-and-death situation. They're kind of … I dunno, xenophobic or something about their own people. Competitive, maybe."

"Territorial," Teller said. "But other species like humans don't trigger the territoriality. Is that it?"

"Yeah, I suppose so. That makes sense."

"Huh," she said. "That's … that's fascinating. How did they get out of that? How did most of the Wookiees get out of it?"

"I don't know. The Rebellion? Other Wookiees? I was barely shaving at the time and didn't pay too much attention. I wasn't lying yesterday. That Dowutin wasn't managing any slaves then and I never met any myself. So it's not something I know a whole lot about."

"Well, you know _that_ story."

"It's not a big secret," he explained. Then again, maybe it was. When he'd been mustered out and rejoined the galaxy at large, he'd found that a lot of people had some really odd ideas of normal imperial life. It made him wonder what they thought of the First Order.

"What happened to the Dowutin?" Teller asked.

"No idea."

Teller snorted. "You're no fun. Where's the cool morality ending of this story? There needs to be a conclusion!"

"The conclusion is that's why the First Order doesn't honor life debts. They're just a means to trick you into something you weren't willing to do otherwise. You don't owe anybody anything no matter what."

"That doesn't feel right," Teller said.

"Tell that to the Wookiees."


	85. Poe 9

[Poe]

* * *

Poe took a seat next to Hux on the bleached, gnawed out remains of the log. Hux gave his food a side-eye. "This is the one they dug up and shot earlier," Poe told him. "I didn't want it to go to waste."

"Hm." Hux was halfway through a meal bar.

"Besides," Poe said, "I'm already getting tired of boiled crab." He'd had it twice before now – for breakfast and lunch. About half the group had had it three times, since those who weren't dead tired the night before had eaten some for a late dinner before retiring.

"Isn't _that_ boiled crab?" He gestured at Poe's meal.

"No, this is roasted in the shell. It might be different." Poe dug in with his fork. The thing had curled up as it cooked, making a convenient bowl. They'd cut off the blasted portion first and of course it had been gutted and cleaned. Then it had been stuffed with the various greens some of the stormtroopers had collected through the day and dusted with a crushed salt tab from the survival pack. The salt really helped. Poe paused on the second forkful and fished out some purple thing he couldn't chew up. The 'greens' might be edible, but that didn't mean they couldn't be too fibrous to eat. He tossed it to the side.

"Variety is overrated," Hux told him. "The Empire ate the same food every day. They did fine."

Poe gave him a disbelieving look. "Everyone hated imperial food." He refrained from calling it any of the pejoratives he'd heard for the nutrient paste imperials had to eat. "Not even the First Order feeds people imperial food." He gestured at the meal bar.

"But it sustained them just fine. If you find the food you're eating unfulfilling, then you must be missing something. Craving indicates a deficiency."

"Yeah, well, we'll be out of crab meat tomorrow, so it doesn't matter."

Hux said, "Stay here. I'll be right back," and stuffed the last of his meal bar in his mouth before leaving. Poe fished out the rest of the purple sticks someone had unwisely thought would make good eats and continued noshing on the more palatable portion.

The stormtrooper behind him who'd been standing guard over the general didn't follow Hux. Poe looked back, seeing from the pauldron that it was FL-2216. She stayed there, like she was guarding Poe. Or maybe the 'stay here' was something she'd thought was directed at her as well.

Hux returned and handed him a cup, holding one of his own. Poe took it, balancing the curled pill bug-crab-thing between his knees. The liquid was red and smelled intensely fruity. He smiled at Hux and sipped the orchard mix. "This tastes especially good. Maybe you're onto something."

"I might be." They sat, ate, and drank quietly for a while, watching as the others waited their turn for a plate of food, or stood or sat around consuming it, chatting idly. Above them all was the repaired, reattached wing, which was on there as well as Rose thought she could get it. It didn't articulate or extend and the guns didn't work on that side, but the maneuvering jets did, which would hopefully make it flyable once they replaced the repulsor coils on the belly of the shuttle. That was a project for the next day. For now, everyone was tired, hungry, and they'd run out of daylight.

"Sir," said FL-2216.

Hux turned. "Yes?"

"Lieutenant Lady says scanners are picking up eight creatures consistent in size with the group fire team two encountered during the wing retrieval yesterday."

"Where?"

"That direction." She pointed to the right and made a short sweep of her forearm, indicating an arc. "Range three hundred meters."

Hux stood immediately. "A minute out?"

"No, they're not closing fast. Coming in slow. As though … stealth."

"Ah." He looked around the gathering, taking a few seconds to think. Those troopers who still had their helmets on had gone on alert. The ones who didn't had noticed that and were looking around for the cause. In turn, the Resistance members were just realizing something was up. "Everyone inside," Hux called out loudly. "Abandon the food. Rear guard, roll it up."

Everyone was inside within thirty seconds, troopers and Resistance both obeying with alacrity. Even if the creatures had been charging, they wouldn't have made it in time to attack anyone. Having lost someone the day before, no one took any chances. Once the group was inside and the ramp was shut, Rose asked, "What was it?"

Poe answered, "There was a pack of eight critters like we ran into at the wing – the big ones."

"Oh. Where?"

"Out in the dark somewhere," he said. "Trying to sneak up on us. We don't have anything out there worth fighting for. I think the right call was getting us all inside and safe."

Rose nodded. "I agree."

"Rule by referendum," one of the stormtroopers muttered disdainfully, lifting off her helmet. She had medium-brown skin and black, fine hair, but what he really identified her by was the faint scorch across the left side of her breastplate. When they'd fought the monsters at the wing, Chewie had blown one off her with his bowcaster, lightly scoring her armor in the process.

"What's your name?" Poe asked.

"DL-8192 to you."

"Okay, well, yeah, DL-8192, we do things a little more democratically than you guys. That's just how it is." He wasn't being aggressive, but he was definitely standing his ground on this.

She gave way with a shrug that was casual instead of dismissive and turned away. Poe let it go. He went over and snagged the sleeping pad leaned against the wall near the corner where he and Hux had been sleeping. Meal bars were being distributed to those who hadn't made it through the line yet to get dinner, or who had dropped their plates outside without finishing. The lucky trooper's voices were in cheerful tones about that, ribbing the ones who had been stuck eating crab. He put down the mat.

Hux came to his side. "Turning in?"

"In a minute. Can I get you to do something for me first?"

"What would that be?"

"Rub my back. I am _still_ sore. It's always worse the second day."

Hux gave him an uncertain look. "I'm not sure what you're asking for."

"Look, all you have to do is like this." He took Hux's hand and put it on his own thigh. "Take the heel of your hand. Push in about this hard." He pressed in with Hux's hand. "Make a circular motion. Up one side of my spine, then the other, across the shoulders, over the shoulder blades. I'll lay on the mat, facedown."

There was a long pause. Then: "I can do that."

"Fantastic." Poe took off his gun belt, loosened his clothes, and laid down. Hux sat next to him, butt on the mat. He took his gloves off. Everyone else in the crowded cabin were making their own arrangements. FL-2216 was giving out watch assignments, which had previously been Lady's job.

Finn and Rose laid claim to the rear compartment again due to their incompletely healed injuries, but they left the doors open so they could hear and be part of the group. Stormtroopers were taking off armor and a few were finishing their meal bars. C'ai was taking a shower, having had boiled crab accidentally dropped on him during the scramble to get inside.

"Mm," Poe hummed as Hux began. He was only using his left hand, but he was doing it as asked. It felt wonderful – a little painful, but in the best way. Poe made another appreciative noise, then a rapturous groan as Hux branched out over his shoulder blade. Hux turned, bringing both hands to bear. Poe made a deeper pleased sound.

"To hear you carry on, one would think I was doing something far more indecent than I am."

"I am all about giving positive reinforcement for the things I really like," Poe said, letting his words slur against the mat. He felt like he was melting into it. "It's not too much, is it?"

"Yes," came Kylo's voice in a decisive tone. He and Rey were settling down near the wall on the other side of the forward hatch from Hux and Poe.

"You had yours the other night," Hux chided.

"What?" Kylo said.

"We all heard you," Hux said. He was still massaging Poe, but Poe was doing his best to be quiet now.

"Oh," Kylo said. Then smugly, "Good."

Rey whacked his arm. He smirked at her. She rolled her eyes and sighed. "Let's go to sleep."

"I love sleeping with you," Kylo murmured.

"Shut up," she said, in the tone of someone who very much didn't want him to shut up.

Poe smiled. Things weren't that bad. If anyone had told him a week ago that General Hux would be giving him a very loving back rub, he'd have thought they were a little short on oxygen. Maybe huffing too much jet fuel. But here he was, getting what he wanted.


	86. Sidious 4

[Sidious]

* * *

The body collapsed to the floor as Sidious released his Force-hold on it. He moved to the side and considered what he'd managed to wring from her mind.

Poe Dameron had been part of an infiltration group sent to the _Finalizer_ at roughly the same time the _Allegiance_ had assaulted it. The Resistance was currently looking for him and the rest of his team, casting about recklessly enough that Sidious had managed to seize one of their searchers. Armitage Hux had not been part of the plan as far as she knew, but clearly he was now. He and Poe must have escaped together.

Normally, such information wouldn't be especially helpful. Looking for two Force nulls among trillions instead of one among the same multiple trillions of beings was a task several orders of magnitude beyond what he was capable of. However, there were others on the team and two of them changed everything: Rey the Jedi and Kylo the last of the Skywalkers.

'The Jedi' was meaningless in the aftermath of the Purge. She had no organization behind her, not even Luke Skywalker, so all the word indicated was the particular sort of training she'd had and perhaps some sort of aspiration or propaganda organized around her.

Kylo was mildly interesting for his ancestry (about as much as Rey for having been trained by Luke), but Palpatine had known Anakin had children. One of them still lived. It was no surprise that in the many years Sidious had been lost in the Force, that more of them had spawned. This was the way of living beings – they furthered themselves whereas the dead inevitably faded. Thus Palpatine's own quest for immortality as a living being, rather than remaining a ghost of his former self.

Still. Any lineage that had a high likelihood of creating Force users needed to be snuffed out and ended as quickly as possible, for his own later safety if nothing else. It was better to keep Force users isolated where they couldn't train each other, help each other, or unite against him. Which made Rey and Kylo's association troublesome.

Even in his current state, he was confident he could handle any Force user, even a powerful one; and any two average ones even if they worked together; but he entered a realm of risk when trying to confront _two_ powerful Force users, especially if they coordinated well with one another. Without a body - he had limits, much as he pretended otherwise.

While the informant didn't believe Rey and Kylo had a long association, Sidious was inclined to believe she was wrong. The son of Leia Organa and the pupil of her twin Luke Skywalker didn't meet until a week ago? Ludicrous. He hadn't had time to do much research on them, but for now he would assume they were a serious threat.

They were a threat, but also the key. The Force touched all the trillions of beings in the galaxy, but that connection was strong enough to be used in far fewer. There were probably only hundreds or thousands that could be considered strong Force users among the tens or hundreds of thousands strong enough for him to detect. Were any two of these in close proximity to one another? Possible. Investigating each case where that occurred was still a formidable task, but definitely within his capabilities.

It was, at present, his best lead. He stirred, noticing that his servant General Pryde was still standing where he'd left the man, at attention and awaiting Sidious' pleasure. "General. Prepare the ship for hyperspace travel and stand ready for as long as it takes."

"Yes sir. Destination, sir?"

"I will provide the coordinates when I give the command."

"Yes sir." Pryde left.

Sidious ruminated for a few more minutes before he realized he was procrastinating. He might as well get to it.


	87. Rose 6

[Rose]

**[The story is based on "The King's Pet" by Mary Lou Alsin, which was part of a collection of first grade stories in a book called Cloverleaf by William Kirtley Durr.]**

* * *

Rose paused at the open hatch to the rear compartment. She'd used the refresher and was crossing the entry on her way to climb into her bunk, newly garbed in one of the stock officer's uniforms. The troopers bedded down at this end of the shuttle were talking. She missed the lead-in, but she heard the one second from where she stood saying, "She tells us stories at night. Short ones. Teller makes them up. They're fun to listen to."

Two other troopers agreed, "Yeah," and "Uh-huh," and "You tell 'em, Teller."

There was a long silence and then a trooper four or five from the door asked, "What about you in the Resistance? Do any of you have stories you could tell us? These guys hear me most nights. What stories do you tell each other?" That must have been the one they were calling Teller.

"Stories?" C'ai grumbled. "Like war stories?"

"No," the trooper two away from Rose, the one she'd heard clearly first, explained. "Morality tales. You don't have these things?"

Rose said, "Like a bedtime story?"

"Yes," he said cheerfully.

Like for children, she thought, but didn't say. That made it sound dismissive or disparaging. These were adults, but even Finn had described them as scared kids. They probably weren't allotted much time in their heavily structured days for socializing, but they'd managed to carve out a tiny bit for themselves – a tiny bit that involved bedtime stories.

"Do you know any?" he asked hopefully.

Rose laughed a little. "Yeah, I know some. My … my sister used to tell them to me."

"Tell us one!" came the enthusiastic female voice from further in, the one who'd asked if the Resistance had stories. Then she dialed it down a little, "If you want, that is."

"No, it's okay," Rose said. She leaned against the frame of the hatch. "I'll tell you my favorite story that I bugged my sister for until she was sick of it. But she still told it to me anyway because … well, she loved me." Rose blew out air in a huff. She was smiling, though. "If you want to hear it?"

There was a still-surprising chorus of encouragement from the troopers and even a, "Yeah!" from Finn where he was bunked down to her right in the rear compartment. She heard Chewbacca and C'ai throw in their endorsement as well.

"Okay," she smiled, thinking this was silly, but fun. It helped that the room was dark so she didn't see anyone. It was sort of like she was telling the story to herself, without the same social pressure she normally felt in talking in front of a group of watchful eyes. "I'll tell you the story of Droopy the Fathier," Rose said.

There was another round of spirited encouragement, ended by one of the troopers telling the others to shut up and listen.

Rose began. "Once upon a time on a planet far, far away, there was a fathier named Droopy. His long ears drooped to the sides instead of sticking straight out like they do on a proper fathier. Because of this, all the other fathiers made fun of him. They would chase him and nip at him and threaten to hit him with the stubby claws on their big feet, but he learned to be very fast so they rarely caught him.

"Still, he wasn't happy about how they treated him. So when he saw the princess was hosting a race to help her choose the royal fathier, he was excited. He knew he was faster than the others and if he were named the royal fathier, they would have to respect him – no more bites and name-calling! He signed up for the race, along with two other fathiers, the fastest in the realm, named Zippy and Speedy."

"Wait, can fathiers talk and sign up for things?" asked one of the stormtroopers, the third in from where she stood. Rose stopped, having not realized the story needed to be factual.

But apparently it didn't need to be, as the stormtrooper that was second in said, "Shut up, Major. You know the rules. It's a _story_, not a presentation."

"Well, I-"

The stormtrooper right at Rose's feet cut in, "_These_ fathiers can talk and sign up for things. Okay?"

"Okay."

Rose cleared her throat and continued. "All three showed up to the starting line and the race was on! But despite how much _trash-talking _the _talking _fathiers did," Rose grinned at this, enjoying rubbing it in (and she heard a few people snicker so she knew it went over well), "before the race, they soon fell behind. Droopy was super-fast because he had to run all the time to avoid being nipped. So he was in great shape. So great of shape that when he rounded a corner and saw someone was stuck in a bog next to the road, he thought he had enough time to stop and see what was the matter.

"There was an old man up to his armpits in the mud and he cried out for help, saying, 'Please, please! Big strong fathier! Please come help me out of the mud or I might sink and drown!' Droopy told him, 'I am in a big race right now and it is very important. But when I am done, I will tell people where you are and they can come help you.' The man said, 'No, please, I might sink and die before then. You must help me now! You are so tall, it will only come up to your knees!'

"And just then, the other fathiers came running by. They didn't stop. Droopy was torn, but he knew it wouldn't be right to leave someone in danger, so he waded out into the bog as quickly as he could. The man grabbed onto his dangling ears and it hurt to pull him out as much as you can imagine it would be pull out someone who was hanging on your ears." This was the part where Paige had always tugged on Rose's ears. She sighed at the memory.

"Once the man was safe, Droopy hurried off along the road, running fast as he could to make up for lost time. And Droopy was very, very fast. The mud that didn't fly off him dried on his coat, making him look splotchy and dirty in addition to being in last place.

"Just as he caught up to the other two, they all came to a halt under a tree that spread branches over the road. Up in the branches was a little girl, crying for help. She was begging, 'Please, help me down. I am so little I'm afraid I'll break my legs if I jump. I've climbed too high and can't get down! I've been up here for so long waiting for someone, anyone to help me!'

"The other fathiers said just what Droopy had tried to tell the man in the bog, that they would send someone to fetch her after the race. But she said she might fall before then. They said she would just have to hang on and they ran away before she could say more. But Droopy did not. Like any fathier, he was very tall and when he stood up on his hind legs, he could reach her. She took hold of his eyebrows," this, also, was a place where Paige would teasingly pinch her brows, "and climbed over his face, putting her foot on his nose," and here Paige would gently mash her thumb into Rose's nose as she giggled.

"She slid down his neck and clung to his back. Droopy asked if she was going to get down and she said, 'No, it is still too high up.' And Droopy said, 'Well, then, hang on tightly for I have a race to run!' And she did. Droopy ran faster than he'd ever run before. He was thankful she was small and didn't weigh much. It was not long before he saw Zippy and Speedy up ahead, galloping away from an old woman who was lying on the side of the road.

"Droopy stopped to see what was wrong, even as the other two fathiers got further and further away. The old woman said, 'Oh! Thank you so much for stopping! I have hurt my leg terrible and I can't walk. I was afraid I would die here in the hot sun. Those other fathiers told me you would help me. Please, can you let me ride on your back along with the child? Take me to the palace and I am sure there is a doctor there who can mend me.'"

"Droopy knew she was not small like the child. He knew he would not be able to catch up a third time. He was tired already from having to make up so much lost ground, but she was right that the sun was hot and he knew that humans sometimes died in the heat. So he knelt to the ground and the child helped her climb up on his back. Now he could not run too fast for fear she might fall off, but he did the best he could anyway. The quicker he got her to a doctor, the better.

"When he came to the town, he was unsurprised to see all the cheering and celebration at the end of the course, which was at the palace doors. Zippy and Speedy were dancing and arguing, for they had crossed the finish line nearly together and were now bickering about which of them had won. Zippy's nose had crossed first, but Speedy was the first to set hoof on the other side. The princess left them to it and came over to where Droopy knelt, exhausted, so the old woman and the child might dismount.

"But as Droopy turned his head, he was surprised to see the old woman step down easily. Her leg was not hurt at all! And joining the princess was the man he'd pulled from the mud! Even the child was grinning and jumping up and down, no longer frightened and telling about how Droopy had stretched up so high to help her.

"Just then, Zippy and Speedy came over, pushing and shoving, and demanded the princess settle their argument, because it was her race and she set the rules. She said, 'I thank you, two swift fathiers, and your speed is truly a marvel. But the winner of this race was not to be determined by who was fastest, but by who was kindest and had the biggest heart. In that, the winner is clear. And it is this beautiful fathier right here,' she said. Even having heard what she said, Droopy was still shocked that she pointed at him. He did not think he was beautiful even when he wasn't covered in mud and sweat!

"Zippy and Speedy were very upset, but they also knew she was right. At each stop, they had been secretly very happy that Droopy had fallen further and further behind helping people. All three of them should have stopped each time to make sure people were safe, because that was more important than winning a race. But they had not, and now they had much to think about on their long walk home. Droopy was named Royal Fathier. He lived happily ever after with ribbons to wear and treats to eat."

Rose paused for a long, uncertain moment. C'ai finally asked, "Is there more, or is that the end?"

Hesitantly, Rose said, "This is where my sister would have me tell her what I thought Zippy and Speedy would think, and what they'd do differently next time. Because you can make mistakes or bad choices and still do better. I like to think Zippy and Speedy went on to be Royal Messengers, delivering mail and special announcements across the kingdom. And helping people whenever they saw them in need."

No one spoke. Rose stammered, "Um … but … um, you can think of whatever ending you think makes sense. That's it. That's the story. The end."

The profound silence made her face heat and her teeth clench as she wondered if they thought she'd made this up to say something about them, as stormtroopers, or about the First Order? Maybe she shouldn't have told this story at all. Maybe she should have picked another! Then she heard someone slapping the deck. In a few moments, it sounded like everyone was doing the same, along with some encouraging noises.

As soon as the deck-pounding died out, a round of conversation sprouted up: "What if they were exiled for being bad?" "What if they just never ran races again?" "What if they were hunted down?" "That doesn't make any sense! They didn't do anything wrong! It was Droopy who broke the rules." "But Droopy won!" "Droopy didn't break the rules. They all _assumed_ they knew what the rules were and they were wrong." "The rules should have been clearer. That was the princess's fault." "The princess doesn't have to explain herself. Leadership never does." "What if one of them turned on the other?" "What if they went to the next kingdom over and were the fastest there?" "Speed doesn't matter." "This can't be the princess's fault." "No one said it was!" "Yes, they did. _You_ did!" "I did not!" "Yeah, you did." "Stop arguing!" "Maybe they become race trainers and tell other people what the rules are?"

"Yeah," Rose said quietly, not sure what to make of the voices. Even though they'd been together for days, most of the time the troopers wore their helmets. In the dark, without their vocoders, it was impossible for her to tell who was who. Not that she knew them that well anyway.

"That was a wonderful story," one of the stormtroopers said louder than the rest, which sounded to be the one in the middle whom she believed was called Teller. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Rose said, relaxing and sketching a little bow that she doubted anyone could see. "Good night." A chorus of 'good nights' answered her, followed by another wave of chattering speculation that seemed to be people talking to themselves rather than to each other. She went to bed smiling at how enthusiastic they were, even if their comments were strange to her – both bloody-minded and obsessed with obedience and authority. It told her something about their priorities – something she'd need to think about.


	88. Hux 20

[Hux]

* * *

Most of them were done settling in. Poe remained on the sleeping mat, face down, unmoving. Hux's bare hand rested on his back, occasionally flexing his fingers or stroking, reveling in the simple pleasure of touching someone like this. Hux could feel him breathing – relaxed and patient … content. It was so strange to have someone else seem so … satisfied with him. With his touch, with his presence. It made Hux's chest hurt. He turned to Lady. "Lieutenant? Set the lights to five percent when-"

The ship's computer obviously cared nothing for context, listening only for exact matches of words. The room fell to darkness, lit mostly from the rear compartment where the hatch had been left open. He sighed. Chewbacca made a surprised noise. Under his hand, Poe shifted in a few suppressed chuckles.

With a smile in her voice, Lady said, "Immediately sir!"

Dryly, he told her, "I commend you for your efficiency." He turned and patted Poe. Softly, he said, "On your side, please."

Poe rolled over. They had some confusion as Poe tried to back up and put Hux in front of himself. Hux refused and climbed over him, pushing and nudging until he was the one behind him. Hux held him close, finding that he had a face full of hair this way, but it wasn't bad. He rose up on his elbow and stroked the hair to the side. The curls were springy and silky. He did it again a few times, enjoying how different it felt from his own straight, limp hair. Even Poe's curls were 'resistant'.

One of the troopers said, "Teller, tell us a story."

"Now?"

"Yeah, now."

"You had the Old Man's story earlier."

"We can have another."

"I could definitely listen to another. The days are so short here."

"They're not _that_ short."

Then Kaydel: "What kind of story?"

Hux ignored the rest. Instead, he pressed his lips to the side of Poe's neck, just below his ear. Poe had showered earlier. He smelled nice. He'd also used the grooming products to remove the dark beginnings of his beard. Hux moved his lips to the point of Poe's squarish jaw, enjoying the smoothed skin and letting his mouth linger there as Poe sighed and then wriggled against him.

Poe seemed so happy. It was such a shame, Hux thought. Tomorrow they would launch and before another night was done, they'd have either crashed again, or they'd be back to civilization. Hopefully the latter. But he couldn't deny the traitorous thought that if they were trapped here forever, then they could stay together. Because once they returned to known space, it was over. He lipped down the side of Poe's neck, stopping at the demarcation of a necklace. He used the tip of his nose to push it out of the way so he could press his teeth to the start of Poe's shoulder.

They'd never know each other any more than this. But his was so, so sweet. Worth knowing the absence when he could never have it again. He bit lightly, kissing the spot after as Poe practically melted in his arms. It would be dishonorable to ask the man to give up his entire ideology just to be with him. Hux would be insulted if asked the same. No one who cared for someone would force that kind of choice on them: me, or your principles.

Hux nuzzled the bare skin of Poe's neck and slid his leg between Poe's. He'd ordered the lights dimmer than usual with this quiet make-out session in mind. He'd sort of hoped Poe would be as noisy as he had been for the massage, but now that they were really doing something, Poe was silent other than sighs. The rest in the room were avidly listening to some story being told by Rose.

Hux wondered if there would be a story about him, maybe a note in his biographical files, that he'd had an affair with a Resistance pilot. He hoped there was. It would lend color and interest to what was otherwise a dark and merciless portrait of the rabid cur, vicious bastard descendent of Darth Sidious. It was nice to imagine that it would be somehow recorded that he was capable of more than that.

Poe took the hand Hux had wrapped around his midsection and slid it down toward his groin. Hux hooked his thumb into the waistband of his pants, smiling toothily in the dark. Then he had to stop Poe from unfastening them – persistent man. Because no, they would not go further. He wanted Poe to yearn for him. To miss him. To always have the fantasy and never be disappointed by reality. And he didn't want his first time to be here and now, like this, furtive and illegitimate, like the fumbling in a pantry that had likely conceived him.

He nipped Poe's shoulder again, a little harder, then added a few other spots on his neck for good measure. Nothing that would show in the morning, he hoped. Poe huffed in frustration. Hux nosed the necklace aside again so he could kiss Poe's neck lovingly – a taunt and a tease. Maybe Poe would be compromised and never take up arms against the Order again. Maybe … but that was the best Hux could hope for – that his feelings were returned and … that was it. That was the only hope he could allow himself.

Poe moved his own hand down to his nether regions, but Hux retrieved it. He applauded the initiative, but Poe was going nowhere without him tonight. And they were … going nowhere. Hux breathed out heavily and rested his forehead against the back of Poe's. It had been a good dream. A comfort in trying times. A kindness and affection Hux had never known before and likely never would again.

He couldn't defect and run away to join the Resistance, or even just disappear into the galaxy with his stolen lover. Palpatine would find him. He had to go back. He had to deal with him. He had to get control of the First Order again. And then he had to continue its mission, or rather, set up a new mission, now that the war was won.

Poe pressed his admirable hindquarters back into Hux's groin, rubbing back and forth firmly enough against Hux's half-hard erection that Hux gasped. Hux didn't let go of Poe's wrist, but he did bite him on the shoulder quite a bit harder than he had before. That would leave a mark. Poe groaned, but the shuttle erupted in applause for the conclusion of Rose's story. No one heard but him.

When he let go, Poe said, "You are the _worst_," in a tone of voice that sounded like anything but.

Hux laughed dryly. He pressed himself to Poe's body, trying to memorize it. He'd made it a decade and a half of sexual maturity without anyone considering taking him as a lover until now. He doubted he'd ever have another shot. He smiled at the irony of Poe's words and whispered softly in his ear, "Am I?" Poe nodded.

As quietly as he could, Hux told him the truth and the only thing he asked of Poe: "Tomorrow we leave this planet. Remember me. Remember me fondly. Please." He found his breathing uneven and his eyes burned as he tried not to stumble over the last plea. He pressed his face to Poe's hair and held his wrist to keep him from moving. He knew Poe would know what it meant. He hoped he did, because Hux wasn't able to speak clearly enough to explain it.

A few moments later, he knew Poe understood. The man sniffled and drew his hand away to wipe his eyes. Hux gave him a tiny peck on the neck. He was sorry – very sorry they couldn't have more. But it was not to be.


	89. Poe 10

[Poe]

* * *

Hux evidently didn't want to be the little spoon tonight as he had been the night before. Poe thought Hux behind him and Poe in front worked better with their heights anyway. They didn't finish getting settled in until the lights had dimmed, but that didn't take long. Once it was dark (and darker than usual – the general put the lights at five percent), Hux was not shy about cupping his entire body possessively against Poe's, wrapping an arm around him and holding him tight.

After a short argument between the troopers, Rose told them all a bedtime story. Under other circumstances, Poe would have liked to have listened to it, but he was thoroughly distracted by Hux's hanky-panky. It started with petting his hair, but soon he felt Hux's lips against the back of his neck – a small kiss, and another, as Rose kept talking. Teeth pressed against the flesh where Poe's shoulder joined with his neck. They bit, lightly. Lips sealed over it in a kiss.

Poe breathed in heavily and exhaled the same, letting his head loll. He wanted to make a sound, but everyone was listening raptly. A few lascivious moans would be highly inappropriate in the middle of Rose's tale about fathiers and helping people out of mud pits.

He parted his legs instead. Hux inserted one of his own into the gap. Poe put his hand over Hux's and slid it down. Hux's thumb snagged on the top of Poe's pants. Poe started to unfasten them, but Hux stopped him and brought their hands back up to his midsection. So … no. But he was half-hard already and that didn't stop his body from continuing. He wasn't sure where Hux was in that process, but he sure was giving a lot of attention.

Hux nibbled on his shoulder again. He breathed Poe in. He licked him. He kissed him again. Poe had to lie there, his body thrumming with want, his mind throwing out suggestions like kicking the guards out of the forward compartment so they could 'stand a watch' and do something even more involved than the previous night. But Rose was still talking, even if it seemed like her story was wrapping up now.

Poe moved his hand down to his groin, but had no more than rubbed once or twice before Hux took his wrist and brought it back to his belly. In retaliation, Poe ground his ass backward into Hux's groin, shifting it back and forth against what was, yes, at least a partial erection. Hux made a shuddering gasp, but didn't let go of Poe's wrist. He bit him on the neck, pressing in his teeth enough that Poe groaned, but the noise was lost in a sudden flurry of people slapping the deck in what Poe surmised was some kind of applause.

The sound had startled Hux enough to release him. "You are the _worst_," Poe said, not making any great effort to be quiet over the noise. Even though it was dying down, he was fairly sure only Hux heard him clearly.

He could feel Hux laughing behind him. He could feel the tightness in Hux's face as he laid it against Poe's neck and embraced him more firmly. "Am I?" he whispered softly in Poe's ear, smile evident in his voice. Poe nodded.

There was more chattering through the compartment as people discussed the ending of the story. Still as quiet as possible, Hux whispered, "Tomorrow we leave this planet. Remember me. Remember me fondly. Please." Hux inhaled a shaky breath. He turned his face to press it to the side of Poe's neck and into his hair. Poe's breath caught in his throat and his stomach felt like it somersaulted.

It was a tease, but this – all this – was also an answer to something Poe had wondered about and worried over. When they were back in known space, back to civilization, they wouldn't be together again. Or ever. This was it and Hux was telling him so. And maybe this was all Hux could give him, under the circumstances, given where and who they were.

Poe hadn't wanted it to turn out this way, but honestly he hadn't figured out a solution either. Nothing beyond making sure Hux knew there was life, friends, and opportunity outside whatever Palpatine was offering him. Poe sniffed and reached up to wipe his eyes. Hux kissed him on the neck again, lingering but chaste. Poe nodded a little, knowing an apology when he saw one.

This sucked. The whole thing.


	90. Kaydel 5

[Kaydel]

* * *

Kaydel sat up and stretched. It was still so dark. "Lights at twenty percent." That did the trick without overpowering it. She could see forms – Hux was wrapped around Poe so they'd reversed their configuration from the night before; Rey and Kylo were close, facing one another with their hands touching. Lady was just now sitting up. The troopers were mostly arranged in a neat row, with a few of them having rolled on their sides. C'ai was sprawled on the floor. Chewbacca was absent – probably standing last watch, which gave Kaydel a reference for the time.

Lady checked her chrono, then rose and went to the forward compartment. The light from there was bright – the sun was up. C'ai made a complaining grumble after the hatch shut. Kaydel stretched again. Lady returned a few minutes later. C'ai grumbled again. By then, Kaydel had her comb out and was starting to put her hair to rights.

Lady lingered uncertainly next to Kaydel's sleeping mat. "May I?"

"Yes, definitely." She handed over the comb. Kaydel shut her eyes and relaxed as Lady sat and began stroking the comb through her hair. "You're getting better."

"Is it common to have another do this? Or is this a private thing?"

"Depends on the culture. In mine, it's expected that other people will help you, but it would be something you'd have a trusted friend or family member do. All the normal hairstyles are ones that work best with someone else to help. Some of the sophisticated ones require several. I'm, uh, usually I'm just doing simple braids, but General Organa and I would do each other's hair."

"You," the brushing paused, "you helped a _general_ with her hair?"

"Yes. Why?" Kaydel laughed softly. "Do you think she can do it with the Force? Or have C-3PO do it?" She giggled more, imagining how awkward that would be. "It would get all tangled up in his servos!"

"C-3PO has servos?"

"Yes."

"Oh. How did he lose his hand? Or hands?"

"What?"

"He has a prosthetic?"

"What?" Kaydel turned to look at her, then it clicked. 'C-3PO' just sounded like any other stormtrooper designation. "No, he's a droid – a protocol droid." She decided to leave off the part about how only droids (or clones) would be known by letters and numbers in the wider galaxy.

"Ah." Lady was finished with her hair, but she kept combing through it anyway, lifting it and running her hands along it. Kaydel sighed and enjoyed it. Lady asked, "Where are you from? What is your culture that you mentioned?"

"Dulathia. It's mid-rim, Lantillian sector. Do you know where that is?"

"Sort of. I'm not a navigator, but I can outline the mid-rim on a … on most star maps. I'm not sure of the projection you use. Yours is core-centric, correct?"

Kaydel blinked, staring forward. She'd seen star maps that centered on a particular system, of course, but it had never occurred to her that a galaxy-spanning organization (which the First Order definitely counted) might _not_ use a core-centric map projection. But then again, there was no reason why the First Order would call the area of space they inhabited the 'Unknown Regions'. "Um … yeah. It is. That's what the Empire used. Is that … is that not what you use?"

"We call it the imperial projection. But we also use the Nikir projection when we're not referencing New Republic space."

"Nikir?"

"He was an admiral. He mapped things." Lady spoke dismissively. This was unimportant to her. "Tell me about Dulathia. Were they an imperial planet?"

"Yes, we were. It ended up being one of the better off imperial worlds because it didn't have anything of value – nothing to exploit, no resources to strip. The garrisons weren't big and we were liberated late, without much of a fight … Oh, maybe this is something you'd know – the star destroyer _Tempest_ was stationed there at the end. It evacuated when the New Republic forces showed up. Did they … did they find the First Order?"

"Yes, they did!" Lady moved around in front of her, smiling. "That was before I was born, but the precedence of heroes is something we all learn."

"The … precedence? I know what the word means literally, but …"

"The order … the, um, sequence that people joined the Order. The order of the Order. That's part of why it's called the First Order. The first people to follow the order are the most honored. After that, the ah, sequence follows. Someone joining now or just graduating into service isn't the same as someone who joined back then, in the darker times, when you didn't know if you were joining the winning side. Back then joining up was a real sign of loyalty."

"Oh. Huh. Where did the _Tempest_ rank?"

"Um, D, I think?"

"D?"

"D prime. Fourth year after the Battle of Jakku."

"Yes." Kaydel mentally synced up the calendars, realizing they must use a rolling alphabet for assignations. It wasn't that uncommon an idea. Most planets, systems, and even regions of space maintained their own calendars separate from the Galactic Standard. "That would … be about right. So H-482 would have joined just a few years later, if I'm understanding the system right?"

"Yes!" Lady looked delighted.

Kaydel smiled back, as the enthusiasm was contagious. "Okay. Now it makes sense – why you have a whole squad of F's. They were born the same year?"

"They graduated the same year. But usually, yes, that means they're close in age."

"And you're a C. Graduated three years earlier?"

"Yes."

"Neat. Your names mean things." Kaydel poked Lady's knee teasingly.

"You are figuring us out," Lady teased back, her voice dropping a little. "Why do you even want to know this?"

"I want to know all about you!" Kaydel gave her a little push on the shoulder this time.

Lady smiled wider, lifting her chin archly. "About all of us, or me?"

"You, mostly."

The smile faded. "You don't expect me to tell you secrets, do you?"

"No. But how about this?" Kaydel moved around partly behind her, where Lady could still see her. "Where did you get this?" She briefly touched the craggy, Y-shaped scar on the back of Lady's head. Bacta should have prevented it, unless she grew up or was injured somewhere that didn't have access to that miracle substance.

"That is not a secret," Lady said approvingly, but she remained sober. "Barracks brawl. I didn't win, but I accounted well enough of myself that it settled the matter."

"Why … didn't you go to the medbay? You were on a ship, right?" Vi Moradi's reports had detailed the training of children aboard ships. As one of General Organa's aides, Kaydel had read through them all. But there was obviously so much Vi hadn't been able to include.

Lady scoffed softly. "It was a _barracks_ brawl. We weren't supposed to be fighting. And it was a head injury. I was young."

"But a head injury that left a scar like that is serious. You must have bled …"

Lady shrugged. "A serious injury in the young is grounds for termination. I was fine within a few days."

"Termination? They would have killed you? A child?"

Lady shrugged again. "We are a military organization. The weak have no place among us."

C'ai Threnalli sleepily burbled something in his own language and although Kaydel understood the language, she didn't catch what he'd said. It didn't seem to be directed at them. Others were beginning to wake up, but as yet, they enjoyed the opportunity to lie in until Lady announced it was time to rise.

"Do you know how cruel that is?" Kaydel asked her, honestly curious.

Lady reached back and touched the scar herself. "Probably more than you do."


	91. Rose 7

[Rose]

* * *

Rose was opening up panels and laying out tools along with C'ai when Poe dropped by to ask, "What's going on?"

"Just getting set up while they finish cooking breakfast." She looked past him. Hux wasn't sitting on the log like he had for the other meals. Though admittedly, there wasn't much of a log left. "Where's Hux?"

"He's, uh, inside."

"Is everything okay?"

"Sure. Fine." Poe's tone did not sound like things were fine. He changed the subject. "Are we really getting out of here today?"

She nodded. "Unless something breaks or they take off without us." She paused and looked over at him soberly. "Will they?"

"Nah." He shook his head and rolled his eyes as though that wasn't something to be concerned about.

Rose grimaced and turned to C'ai. "I think we need to keep this spot open. Someone's going to need to lay down here to make sure it's going in straight to the mounting brackets."

Poe nodded to himself and started to leave. Rose said, "Hey, wait!"

"Huh? What?"

She scooted out to sit on the soft ground next to one of the landing struts, deeply sunk in the punky material that made up the ground. "I want to talk."

"Okay." He looked guarded.

She sighed. She thought about Finn's intention of rejoining the Order. She thought about Poe's change of mood in regard to things Hux-related. He wasn't uncertain about their safety, though, so there was that. And then there was her own second-guessing about the repairs. "Everything I want to talk about is more complicated than I think either of us want to get into before breakfast."

"Yeah," Poe said sourly. "Or ever." He looked off into the distance.

"What was that you said the other day about shooting kids?"

He turned his attention back to her with a half-nervous, half-amused laugh. "You're really going to ask about that now?"

"Why not now? You were over here asking me what I was doing because you didn't have anything to do. Is it 'complicated'?"

C'ai came out to sit next to her, looking up at Poe expectantly.

"No, it's not complicated." Poe shrugged. "Okay, yeah, sure. I got some kids. On stun. They were fine."

"Details, Poe," she chided him. "You're never slow to tell us what happened on adventures. That you're brushing this off has me all kinds of curious."

"Tell us a story," C'ai said in imitation of the stormtroopers the night before.

Poe chuckled and shook his head ruefully. "I was a teenager, okay?" She made a 'continue' gesture. "We were at one of those Rebellion get-together parties my dad went to. On Yavin IV, they're pretty well attended. And a lot of kids were there, because most of the Rebels either had 'em or adopted 'em after the war."

"Go on."

"This isn't a super-exciting story, you know? No talking fathiers …"

C'ai laughed and said, "It gets more interesting each time you don't want to tell it." Rose nodded.

"You two." Poe rolled his eyes. "So anyway, we kind of, um, well. We were uh," he scratched the bridge of his nose with his thumbnail, "re-enacting the ground battle at Endor. Badly. And without speeder bikes. But we'd managed to lift a bunch of blasters from our parents and uh, figured we'd be okay if we just set them to stun."

"You …" A wicked grin spread across her face at this stunt. "You used _live fire weapons_ in a kid's game?"

He smiled, too, guiltily. "Yeah."

"What if someone had put it on the wrong setting?"

"Well, then .. there would have been a homicide. But we were lucky and that didn't happen." He said the last like that made it all okay somehow.

"Oh," said C'ai quietly.

Rose asked, "How long did this go on?"

"Oh, pretty long. The adults were all inside, you see? We claimed we'd taken the shield generator when we'd stormed the barn, but the other team said it didn't count until we'd eliminated all the opposition or taken them prisoner. We tried to do that, but they scattered, and then I chased Geb Jakkins into the house – the part with adults, who were drinking and armed – while I was firing at Jakkins. Stun rounds, yeah, sure, but you don't run into the middle of a bunch of combat veterans guns blazing."

"What happened?"

He shrugged. "Well, uh, I was tackled. Would have served me right if they'd decked me or shot me and there _were_ people with blasters drawn by the time I got clothes-lined – and they weren't going to use a stun setting, either. My dad was _so_ mad. And even madder, plus scared, when he found out half the kids in attendance outside were unconscious. None of us had noticed or cared what happened to them after they'd been shot – we'd just left them where they fell – because we didn't know any better and, you know, it was combat, right? Just stun."

C'ai asked, "Were they alright?"

Poe grimaced and made a helpless gesture. "Some of 'em were a little twitchy. Especially the smaller ones." He bared his teeth in an embarrassed grin. "We didn't have the setting ramped down as far as we should've. Some of the guns wouldn't even go that low. I mean, they don't even _design_ blasters to shoot little kids. Or if they do, none of our parents owned things like that."

"Oh wow." She laughed and covered her nose and mouth with both hands. "That's terrible. I shouldn't be laughing. That's awful. That could have gone so wrong so easily."

Poe shrugged. "Yeah. I know. Trust me. I heard about it so much I ran off to join the Naval Academy a year early."

"Whose idea was it, anyway? Was it yours?"

"It was mine for us to have an actual battle. I honestly don't remember whose idea it was to use real blasters. That's one of the things that frustrated our parents – there wasn't a single ringleader they could blame. And a lot of us wouldn't snitch no matter what. Anyway, you know," he rubbed the back of his neck, then the join of his neck and shoulder. "Kid stuff, right? I'm sure you got into some trouble yourself, right?"

She grinned and chuckled. "Not that like, Poe. Not like that. That's crazy stuff." She shook her head ruefully. "What's wrong with your shoulder, though?"

"Huh? What?"

"Do you have a rash? Let me see." As she took a few steps closer and pointed to where his neck met his shoulder, Poe pulled the cloth to the side and ran exploratory fingers up and down the skin. There was a red, blotchy area right where his necklace hung. She realized what it was at the same moment that Poe did.

He pulled his shirt closed. "Uh, it's nothing. Um, necklace just … irritating the skin. Sweaty. It's okay."

"Right," she agreed, even though that was clearly was a human bite mark. She'd known they were getting involved, yeah, but not _that_ involved. And now there were … problems between them? "Yeah, no problem. Nothing at all."

"What is it?" C'ai asked. He was still sitting on the ground, but was beginning to get to his feet.

Poe shook his head. "It's nothing. I need to go see if they have breakfast ready yet. Thanks." Rose let him extract himself without making things even more awkward.

Mystified, C'ai said, "What was that about?" after Poe left.

Rose turned to him. "I'm not entirely sure, but I think he's right - they're not taking off without us."


	92. Poe 11

[Poe]

* * *

"How are you doing?" he asked Finn, who was sitting on the repulsor-lift as he had the day before. Poe took a seat next to him. The thing bobbed a lot more than it should have. He frowned at it. "Is this thing stable?"

"I think we broke it," Finn said. "But I'm okay. Everything but the big bites is healed up. I managed to get through yesterday without tearing anything open."

"That's good."

Finn touched his left leg. There was nothing to see with the black trousers, but Finn said, "They took literal chunks out of me." He shook his head.

"Think it'll scar?"

Finn nodded. "Even some of the smaller stuff has scarred. Rose is disappointed."

Poe chuckled. "She has a keen eye." He looked forward, where they were both facing. Rose, Chewbacca, and C'ai were on their backs under the shuttle, re-installing the repulsors. "They should be done in less than an hour. After that, we can take off."

Finn nodded. "Where are we going?" he asked without looking at Poe.

Poe leaned back, his hands starting at his knees and riding up his legs with the motion. He thought about Hux asking him to remember him the night before. He wouldn't have said something like that if he didn't expect Poe to be alive and free to do it (distressing as the request was otherwise). "Well, I'm the one piloting – me and Kylo maybe – so we go wherever I say we go. What do you think?"

Finn looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "If Rey and Kylo have the Force again, they can handle the First Order people. We can go wherever we want. You could … take them back to the Resistance base and they couldn't stop you."

"Do you think that's what we _should_ do?"

"DJ told me 'it's all a machine'. He was right. Abducting a few members of the First Order isn't going to change anything big, even if one of them is General Hux himself. They'll just replace him with someone worse and everything will be the same as it has been." Finn grimaced before adding, "You have to change the machine itself. I'm going to join them and do it from the inside."

"What?" Poe turned to face him, wide-eyed. "You're doing what?" Finn gave him a look as serious as any Poe had seen from him. He wasn't joking. Poe asked, "Is that what this uniform is about? I thought your clothes were just …"

"They were. And no, but the uniform changed it from an idea to something I could actually do. I talked to General Hux about it."

"And?"

Finn shrugged. "He said he'd have to promote CL-0745 first and talk to H-482 about what I did on the wing expedition. He's done those things. There's no reason why he would've done those two if he wasn't going to do the third."

"The third being …?"

"Letting me in. Join as an adult recruit, with rank."

"Does that happen?"

"All the time. I mean, not like constantly," Finn allowed, "but it's not rare."

"So you'd be like that H guy, the Old Man?"

"Yeah, but I'd be an officer. I'd keep my name."

"You talked about that already?" Finn nodded. Poe said, "You've already worked out the logistics on this." He hadn't thought twice about the uniform. He supposed he should have. He'd even thought the battlefield promotion for the lieutenant seemed odd, but assumed it was a morale thing or something.

"Huh," Poe said. "I guess, yeah, me flying us back to one of our bases wouldn't work out. Speaking of which, you know where our bases are. You know all sorts of things about the Resistance we wouldn't want in the First Order's hands. How are you going to keep them from getting that out of you?"

"By not telling them."

"They'll ask. No, they'll demand."

"I'll make it a condition of joining that I don't have to tell them."

"Do you get to make conditions?"

"If they don't accept them, then I go with you guys."

Poe blew out air. "Okay. That sounds really risky, bud. Are you going to be in a position to back out if it turns bad?"

Finn still seemed unbothered and determined. "If it all goes bad, Poe, you've seen their interrogation. You withstood it. I can withstand it."

"Actually, I gave up the location of the plans. I did _not_ withstand it."

"That was because of Kylo," Finn said, lowering his voice a bit further. "They don't have Kylo anymore."

"Yeah, okay," Poe agreed. Kylo couldn't be the only Force-user working for the Order, but he figured Finn knew his odds better than Poe did. "Just sounds dangerous."

Finn sighed heavily. "I know. It is. The Resistance is, too. You know?"

"Yeah, I know," Poe grumbled, hunkering a little. He still wasn't over all the people who had died between D'Qar and Crait, most of which had been his fault. He worried Finn was leaving because of that, as some vote of no-confidence in the Resistance leadership. He couldn't blame him if it were true. Was Finn defecting better or worse than when Poe had staged a mutiny in the middle of combat? He didn't want to think about it that way, so he asked, "What about Rose?"

"That's up to Rose," Finn said testily. "You never said: where are we going?"

Poe pushed himself off the repulsor-lift, accepting the change in subject as the signal that what was between Rose and Finn over this wasn't up for public discussion. It wasn't like he'd said anything to anyone about Hux's comments the night before. The lift wobbled so erratically he had to put a hand on it to steady it. "I'll go find out."

* * *

Poe found Hux in the shuttle at one of the subsidiary consoles in the main compartment of the shuttle. The chairs had been pulled out of the cargo holds and re-installed since no one expected to be sleeping on the floor again. Hux wasn't sitting, though. Poe told him, "You're the guy in charge here."

"I am." Hux turned to face him, as cool and professional as he'd been all morning. Although he'd been pointedly avoiding Poe all morning, difficult as that was in such a small camp.

Given his last conversation with Finn, Poe had a moment of parallel to when he'd confronted Holdo after she'd been confirmed during Leia's incapacity. It gave him pause. He'd been asking her where they were headed as well. And Hux had been about as unwelcoming this morning as she'd been. It was time to try something different. "We'll be ready to fly in an hour or two. Kylo and I will be piloting. Have you decided where we're going?"

It seemed to work. At least, Hux relaxed slightly. "I was thinking Inra." He half-turned, gesturing at the screen he'd been using. The planet's stats were on it. He must have been reviewing it right then. "It's a lesser, outer planet in the Corellian system, practically a large asteroid – the thin atmosphere and low gravity should make landing easy. They have capacious docks."

"Oh?" Poe leaned in and looked. Hux moved to the side, avoiding any possibility of Poe brushing up against him. The move was enough to scramble Poe's attention. Instead of looking at the screen, he looked at Hux.

Hux continued as though he didn't see Poe's hurt look. "They primarily do aftermarket modifications to Corellian ships, catering to aliens. As such, the First Order doesn't have a presence there. It's a source of cash and not problems. You have two aliens in your group. You should be able to blend into the locals and remove yourselves without an issue. There's plenty of traffic to hide your trail and I can easily get to Corellia after you're gone."

With an effort, Poe turned back to study the readout. He couldn't (or at least didn't) keep the bitterness out of his voice thought. "Are we going to be safe there? A place the First Order doesn't have much investment in would be really easy to lock down once we were planetside. And take us into custody."

"If I wanted that," Hux said through clenched teeth, "I'd have you fly us direct to Corellia, where regardless of what has happened to my fleet, the Order maintains a substantial ground presence."

It was cute that he thought Poe _would_ fly them to Corellia. Also, that Hux was that easy to rile up. Poe knew it was wrong to set the man off. He straightened and asked, "What's happened to your fleet?"

"That's why I'm going to Inra, so I know what the situation is before I announce myself by name on the open holonet."

"Oh! Yeah." Poe blinked and shook his head. "I was so caught up with the idea of how we were getting out of this I forgot you were … being hunted." He was lying about that, of course. He hadn't forgotten. He just wasn't sure how to level that with Hux preparing to return to the Order, where Sidious was poised to attack him. He was walking right into a trap. "Are we still running silent on comms?"

"Yes."

Poe extended a hand toward Hux and said, "Hey, listen-"

Hux dodged him. "No. It is the morrow. We are not-"

"Okay," Poe said quietly. He let his hand fall to his side. He knew he ought to be hoping he'd made enough of a difference that Hux wouldn't fall prey to Sidious. But the rejection stung way more than it should have if his motives were so impersonal. He swallowed and exhaled heavily. His feelings had gotten involved.

Maybe this whole thing had just been another crazy, ill-considered plan from the start. No different, really, from the teenage stunt with the blasters at the party, or the mutiny. When was he going to learn? How many people would suffer, die, or get their hearts broken (him among them!) before he figured this out? He didn't know how to fix this!

Hux gestured at the screen. "If you agree with the destination, then you should familiarize yourself with their docks."

Poe nodded morosely and turned to the screen, hands on the edge of the console. Hux touched his shoulder, slipping his hand over it as he leaned in to say, "Even if it is … over … I owe my life to you, or to Kylo Ren. In either case, I'm not going to sully my honor by setting you up or leaving you to die. You have my word … if that matters to you."

Poe turned his head. "It matters." Their faces were close. He tried to stay focused and fixed his eyes on Hux's instead of on his lips, but it didn't help. He liked those eyes. And what he wanted more than anything else right now was to be told or shown that he was okay, despite his failings. "You matter … to me."

Hux winced and stepped back, his face pinched in worried distress.

Poe blurted out, "I'm not going to leave you to die, either. We can help you. There has to be some way. If we stick together, we have so much of a better chance. Kylo … Kylo insists it's going to happen – the thing with Sidious. But it doesn't _have_ to."

"I wouldn't be bothering to fight it if I didn't agree."

"Then let's fight it _together_." He started to reach out, but the shift of Hux's weight told him Hux would just avoid him again. Frustrated, Poe aborted the gesture. Hux's eyes lingered on the hand that had almost reached for him. Poe entreated, "You don't owe me anything. Not the time of day. Not your life. Not to Kylo, either. We saved you for our own reasons. Maybe even selfish ones. But now, for your sake, I want to help."

Hux's throat bobbed tensely. "We can discuss it at Inra, when I have a better understanding of my … options."

Poe sighed and ran his hand through his hair. Maybe he was pushing the guy too hard. He'd been doing that all along, but it had worked, so did that make it right or wrong? "Did … did anything happen last night? Any nightmares?"

"No." Hux relaxed some. "For once, I slept well. You?"

Poe nodded. "Fine. I don't like the silence."

"Neither do I, but I do appreciate a full night of sleep." Hux hesitated, then added awkwardly, "With you. It was very nice." He pivoted and went off to the forward compartment before Poe could respond. Poe pressed his lips together in a grimace, but he knew Hux was giving him what reassurance he could. They'd talk on Inra, he told himself. Poe turned to face the readout on the planetoid.

* * *

Poe found Kylo when he opened the hatch to the forward compartment. He was sitting in the pilot's chair. Already. "I should have known," Poe said sourly as the hatch slid shut behind him.

"Mm," Kylo hummed happily, going through the pre-flight checklist.

Poe waited, but Kylo gave no other response. "I don't suppose I'm going to win this one, am I?" Poe said of their ongoing feud over who was the primary pilot and who was the backup.

"No. But you're welcome to try."

Poe thought about that. The best course seemed to be engineering a situation elsewhere that Kylo was required to go check on and then slide into the empty seat while he was gone. But that seemed petty and it wasn't like he had any doubts about Kylo's piloting ability. He sighed. No, the _best_ course was to let this go. For now. Just like with Hux.

"Okay, you win." Poe took the co-pilot's seat. Kylo viewed him with surprise that was suspicious at first, then turned pleased. Poe began running his own checklist. "Sometimes, you know, things don't work out for me."

"So?"

"Well, I'm _used_ to things working out for me! I mean, I'd _like_ them to work out for me."

"I'm not giving you the pilot's chair."

"No, it's not about that." Poe slumped in the chair for a moment, running his hand through his hair.

Kylo glanced back at the shut door. "What is it about?"

"I've flown into more than one situation that was supposed to be a suicide run, and plenty where the odds were stacked against me. Obviously, I've survived. But does that mean I shouldn't have done it at all? Or are we all better off because someone was willing to try anyway, no matter how hopeless it looked?"

"I heard him last night."

Poe looked to his sharply.

Kylo said, "Everyone wants to be thought well of. Even him. No matter what else happens, you gave him hope that someone would remember him well. I …" Kylo swallowed. "Someone … seeing the good in you … is very important."

Poe nodded slowly, knowing Kylo was talking about himself and Rey, Lando, Leia - others. "Thank you." After a pause, he said, "And thank you for facilitating my crazy plan."

"You're welcome."


	93. Kylo 4

[Kylo]

* * *

The Force flowed over him and through him much like the air outside flowed over the shuttle. Thin clouds parted and faded behind them – the past. The vast darkness of space beckoned ahead – the future.

He'd missed this feeling – being cut off from the Force was like losing his hearing or most of his vision. He'd found himself surprised by people coming up behind him and disconcerted by the way things felt hollow and without essence. He could have gone on the expedition for the wing or helped out around the shuttle more, but honestly, he felt useless without the Force.

It was a good time to reflect on who and what he was, though, apart from his ancestry and the abilities that came with it. Rey had been right in that. They'd done a lot of talking while the others were out adventuring. He liked her. Just thinking of her curled the edge of his mouth. He could feel an answering thrum in their bond. His smile deepened.

"She's holding together so far," Poe said from the co-pilot's seat, flipping switches to start calculations for their hyperspace jump. That pulled Kylo out of his reverie. He returned his focus to his flying, making sure they were still on the best course to leave the planet's gravity well.

Kylo had not told Poe (or anyone else for that matter) that he and Rey were essentially keeping the ship intact as they rose against gravity and wind shear. Neither of them was inclined to share, but of the two of them, Rey trusted more easily. She trusted _these_ people. And so as they cleared the atmosphere, he decided to speak. "The ship can't endure an atmospheric landing without Rey and I."

"What's that?"

Kylo tried again. "The reason why she held together – we're using the Force. It's artificial."

"What about Inra? Hux said the atmosphere there was thin. Is it-"

Kylo snapped his head forward instead of looking at Poe. He felt a surge in the Force, an awareness … and proximity. "Dive!"

"Wha-?" Poe didn't even get the whole word out before a ship slammed into realspace, taking up the part they were headed directly for. Proximity alerts and collision warnings began to blare. They were so close that the interference field which washed out from the destroyer's exit from hyperspace crashed over them.

"Rey!" Kylo called out.

"Got it!" she called back, shielding the ship from what would otherwise have destroyed it. The ship rattled hard even so.

Kylo was steering down frantically, planetward being the only direction the destroyer was unlikely to follow them. There was a metallic shriek and a clunk as they vibrated and bucked in turbulence far worse than that of their ascent through the planetary atmosphere, despite what Rey was doing to steady them. "There went the wing again," Kylo said. This particular path of steering the shuttle was not the way out of this situation. There had to be another way. He let go of the controls.

"What are you doing?!" Poe reached over and slapped the switch that would transfer control of their direction to his station. "We still have half a ship! Two-thirds, maybe." He hit controls, then snarled at the screens. "Nothing's happening! What happened?" Poe answered his own question: "Kriffing tractor beams! How did they get a lock on us so fast? Are you saying we lost the wing again?"

"Yes." It was an afterthought. Kylo leaned forward, looking up at the ship and judging the distance. The tractor beams didn't have far to pull them. The big ship had come in almost on top of them, so close that they were directly in front of the yawning maw of the main hangar bay. The precision meant this was the personal action of a powerful Force user. There was only one actively hunting them, as far as Kylo knew. Kylo turned off the tractor beams on general principle. He just reached out through the Force and shorted out critical systems. He was _also_ a powerful Force user and he wouldn't be taken so easily.

Maybe it wasn't the right thing to do. He didn't know. Not only did they continue toward the hangar bay, but they were hit by Force lightning as they did. It arced out of the hangar and penetrated inside the ship. It seemed like retaliation. Of course, Force lightning always felt like retaliation. It was one of the purest attacks from the dark side. It shot through the ship, sending electronics haywire and striking every living being on the way through, arcing and snapping between them. People screamed. Kylo didn't make a sound, but he clenched his teeth and endured it as he had too many times before.

The ship crashed to the deck of the hangar bay, canting over crazily on the one wing it had left. None of the systems remained online to right it. Kylo and Rey were still recovering their bearings when the ramp popped open in the rear of the ship. It shouldn't have – it wasn't powered at the moment – but it fell open with a clang as people in the main compartment were only just raising their heads from the deck, groaning in pain from the lightning and the rough landing.

Kylo still wasn't seeing the path out of this through the Force. He was inclined to get frustrated, tap into the dark side, and try to power through the uncertainty, but that rarely worked. Not even for the Sith. Anger was a path to power, but frustration? Not so much. That was just a spiral toward helplessness.

There was yelling behind him in the main compartment. The hatch between the compartments had been left open when they were leaving the planet, as there was no particular reason to have it shut. Kylo turned in time to see Armitage Hux hanging in the air, twisting painfully like he was being pulled in more than one direction by telekinesis. Rey's hand was outstretched to him. Kylo remembered the lightsaber, including the very kyber inside it, that had been pulled apart just weeks before. He had no doubt as to what was about to happen to a human being, right in front of his eyes. "Rey! Don't-"

But Rey knew that as well. With an infuriated yell, she released Hux, allowing the general to be whisked outside. She moved forward, drawing her lightsaber but not yet igniting it. Kylo left the seat and bounded to follow, but the ramp slammed shut in both their faces.

As a unit, Kylo slashed the supports and controls on one side as Rey did likewise on the other. Then both extended a hand and slammed the ramp back down. It hadn't taken long. None of this had. Things were happening _fast_.

They didn't even get outside before retreating back as the shuttle came under fire. Both of them, all their focus, went to blocking the bolts coming in against them, deflecting them and scattering the energy. Kylo had a vague sense of where the bombardment was coming from – when the shuttle had crashed, he'd seen the legs of the walkers, AT-ATs, and AT-M6s. Obviously, Sidious had been well prepared for this.

They, on the other hand, had expected to have the entire time of transit and some after landing on Inra to discuss things with Hux and Poe, set up the bond, and try to jointly settle on a strategy for dealing with the monster who now had them pinned down and distracted while he did what he wanted with Hux. They'd been mistaken to think they'd get that opportunity.


	94. Hux 21

[Hux]

* * *

For a moment, he'd thought he was about to die as the subject of a tug-of-war between two Force users. What a stupid way to go! But Rey released him and he soared outside the shuttle, flying fast and true to where an apparition of Sidious stood just within an open door to the hangar bay. As soon as Hux was clear, the assembled artillery opened fire with the obvious aim of obliterating the shuttle and everyone in it.

He had no time to process that other than to be aware of it. Sidious drifted back from the opening as Hux approached it. He was pulled inside, still well off the floor and clear of anything he might grab. Sidious sidestepped and brought him to the side, out of sight of what transpired in the hangar bay. The door slid shut. He could still hear the reverberating, explosive volleys. It was like what had happened on Crait, except in that case, they'd been shooting at Luke's ghost. Now a ghost was commanding the barrage.

Sidious was not physically there. He looked like a decent-quality holoprojection – identifiable if a bit hazy on the coloring. He floated above the floor, probably the better to look physically imposing, and dressed in robes similar to those of the departed emperor. The face had yellow eyes and features that were clear enough, but kept shifting, cycling through different images or angles.

Well. That was grotesque.

Hux pulled his blaster with the intent of seeing if that would do any good. The Force yanked it from his hand and flung it away, which made him think that maybe it would have. Otherwise, Sidious would have let him shoot him. He hesitated on pulling his broken knife, thinking he would be better to keep that in case he got close. But he'd no more than thought it than it, too, fled his person, ejected from the wrist scabbard and skittering off along the floor. He had to wonder what danger the damaged blade would have posed to something that looked thoroughly immaterial.

"Enough," Sidious hissed. He looked angry. Not in the mood to waste time gloating, then.

Hux didn't really expect him to. All this indicated the man felt threatened. It fit the pattern Hux knew from his father. Brendol wouldn't give quarter or pause until he was certain he could. Sidious was no different.

But Hux still tried. "Is there anything I can say to prevent this?" He was still dangling in mid-air, no purchase on anything – an object to be manipulated.

Sidious did at least answer him. There was that. It was more dignity than Hux had expected to be granted, even if it was only one word: "No."


	95. Poe 12

[Poe]

* * *

"He took him!" Poe exclaimed in frustration, waving angrily at the ramp. It was open, tantalizingly open, but the air outside was filled with laser fire. He knew he'd never make it. He wasn't sure how they were 'making it' even right now. There seemed to be fewer blasts per second now than a few moments ago, but that was small consolation.

"We knew this was going to happen," Kylo said, distracted by whatever he was doing to prevent them from being blown to smithereens. His eyes were shut and he was standing still, arms slightly spread, fingers twitching.

"We never had a chance to-!" Rey said. She turned to Poe. "Do you want him back?"

"Yes!" he shouted, outraged that this was even a question.

"Are you willing to do anything to get him back?"

"Yes!"

"_Anything?_" she asked again.

"Yes!" Then he caught himself. There might be a reason why she kept asking. "Uh, what do you mean, 'anything'?"

Several bolts rocked the ship, getting through whatever mystical shielding was in play. It was amazing they hadn't all been reduced to their component atoms. This much ordinance should have already pulverized the shuttle, which didn't even have shields up. Kylo said, "I have it. Do it." He seemed to be talking to Rey. He voice was even, but he was starting to sweat.

She stepped close to Poe. "I don't have time to explain. It's a bond, like what I have with Kylo. It's … marriage. Forever. You can't break it."

Poe blinked at her, trying to wrap his mind around what she was saying. A bond? She was married to Kylo? Why had that not been mentioned before? Did Leia know? But none of that mattered. "Yes. I said yes. I mean yes. You don't have to explain it. Just do it."

Belatedly, he hoped she meant marriage to Hux. Because if it meant married to Rey, that was going to be complicated with Kylo in the picture. And she wasn't really his type. Neither was Kylo. But if it would get Hux back – then everything else could be figured out later.

She put a hand on his shoulder, then shut her eyes. For a moment, it seemed like nothing was happening. Then he felt it, like a tug at the center of his being, like seeing someone he recognized at the end of a long tunnel. It was as profound as the memory of his mother or the joy of flying among the stars. It lifted his soul in ways he couldn't explain.

There was an answering echo from Hux. He knew it was Hux. He could feel it was: Armitage Hux. Fighting, and losing, against Darth Sidious, but even as Poe sensed that, he felt Sidious fade into the background as the bond swelled and strengthened between them. This was really cool.


	96. Hux 22

[Hux]

* * *

This was not how he wanted to die. He might as well have fallen off the bridge when he dangled there less than a week ago. There was no nobility to this – no sacrifice or great purpose. He was still fighting, but there was nothing he could _do_. He had no more traction against Sidious invading his mind than he did against the air he was still suspended in. Sidious was steadily pouring himself into Hux's mind like liquid into a vessel.

Hux felt his own flesh and blood betray him, like his body more rightly belonged to this other than to himself. He'd been defined his whole life by the name Hux. Shortly, he wouldn't even have that (made-up though he now assumed the name was). He would say he wasn't strong enough, but he didn't even know how to resist. It seemed deeply unfair to be robbed of his life like this, through no failing of his own.

He felt something stir inside of himself, the last vestiges of identity, what he thought of when he conceptualized himself. Just him, alone, against the galaxy. Alone against his father, cringing on the floor; against the other cadets, hiding where they wouldn't find him; against Snoke, peeling back layers of his mind; against Kylo Ren, slamming him aside as an annoyance. His whole life had been a useless resistance.

He didn't want that to be his last thought – echoing his father's criticism for being no better than a slip of paper. He didn't _have_ to think about being victimized. Instead, he chose to think of kissing Poe's neck, of the outrageous and flattering sounds the man made as he rubbed his back, of the gentle caresses and frantic kisses and the smell and feel and taste of him. He filled what was left of his mind with that instead. In fact, it really did seem to fill his mind. It was like Sidious wasn't even there. Like he'd been repulsed. Hux's awareness of Poe felt … complete. That was odd.

"Yeah, exactly! Fight him!" Poe said excitedly in his mind. Or some version of him Hux had deluded himself into thinking was there. It was better than Sidious. He'd take what he could get and in this current vortex of supernatural forces, he didn't ask questions.

Sidious dropped him to the floor, looming over him and pouring every bit of his concentration and power into a second effort. Hux scrambled backward until his back met the wall. Outside, the barrage stopped. But just as Hux had had no ability to resist the possession, now it seemed Sidious had no ability to cause it to happen.

The vessel was already full. And not just Poe, but faintly behind him was Rey and Kylo. Sidious was fighting all four of them now and despite the Sith's undeniable power, he couldn't dislodge them from where Hux willingly allowed them to be.

Sidious tried to extricate himself and give up the effort, but Hux didn't let him go. He'd killed this asshole once in the form of Brendol. He'd do it again and this time himself. Sidious had control of every gun on the ship, every droid, and whatever sentient beings remained aboard. If he couldn't take Hux's body, then Hux knew they'd all be dead anyway. Unless he stopped him somehow – _now_. Hux grabbed at him spiritually (and physically, though there wasn't much there to grasp). He had no idea what he was doing, but he tried it with every fiber of his being.

"I hate you! I have always hated you! From my earliest memory, I have wanted to be _anything_ but you! We share the same DNA? It's not enough! I'm improved, by virtue of my _mother_! You're outdated. You're superfluous. You're unnecessary. You're _useless_! You had your chance and you _failed_! You let your arrogance destroy you. I accomplished more than you ever did, started with less, and without the benefit of the damned Force! You are a user who is _nothing_ without his victims!"

That was cathartic.

And on that, a flash of inspiration: his victims. The victims of this whole exchange. And while yes, Hux was a victim, the stormtroopers were victims, those Sidious had killed in seeking Hux were victims, there was a layer behind all of them that was powering everything – the very rift itself, the wound in the Force – the _billions_ of victims of Starkiller Base. That was what had allowed Sidious to come back, a disease that had been stamped out but was now re-released.

Sidious pulled himself away and there was too little of him there for Hux to hang onto. "Then you will die," Sidious told him, releasing Force lightning as he hovered over him. It crackled and snapped, yet to Hux's surprise, most of it grounded harmlessly around him. Some still struck him, but Kylo and Rey channeled something through him, enough that he survived the assault.

Sidious' expression looked puzzled. Perhaps worried.

"The dead of Hosnia have more of a connection to me than you," Hux bluffed, getting to his feet to stand as tall as he was able. "They will not harm me because they know you will never give them the closure they need. They will never move on. They will never be at peace. But they will be with _me_!" There was a shift and a tremor that he felt like some inscrutable shockwave through the air. Maybe he wasn't bluffing. Maybe the spirits powering Sidious _did_ have more of a tie to him than to that old wretch. "_You_ are the breach in the Force. I can give them what you never will!"

"Keep it up!" Poe said in his mind. "Rey and Kylo say keep doing that! Whatever you're doing! They're … helping."

"I feel them." He did, sort of. He felt surrounded and buttressed and shielded, and it felt like his wrath had nearly literal teeth. It was as if his will mattered in some outsized way that exceeded what his mortal frame could accomplish. Was this what it was like to have the Force at one's beck and call?

Well. He knew what to do with power: destroy his enemies. Three decades of abuse and misery had finally found purchase. Hux pledged, "I will dedicate my life to healing this wound. As one of the authors of that holocaust, I can grant this thing that no other can! Not even him! He lies! Leave him," he commanded the spiritual energies Sidious was feeding off like a parasite. "Leave him and find peace!"

The power – the creature – that was before Hux faded, like he had siphoned something away from it, diminishing it somehow. It turned to a heavy liquid floating in the air, then a thick vapor, a wan shadow, and then nothingness. Leaving the air clean and empty – for now. Maybe it was gone forever. Or maybe just creating time and opportunity for Hux to make good on his word.

Whatever supportive energy he'd been receiving from the others was exhausted. Hux collapsed to all fours. He felt stunned and unreal. Although his awareness of the others – Poe, Kylo, and Rey (had that been real?) – had ended, he still felt like he was literally surrounded by ghosts. Their presence crawled on his skin, like knowing someone was looking at him yet being unable to meet their eyes. What had he gotten himself into? He vomited, then dragged himself away from the bile and mess.


	97. Finn 7

[Finn]

* * *

The barrage stopped. Rey, Kylo, and Poe were in a triangle of sorts near the ramp, hands on one another's shoulders, heads bowed, eyes shut. Finn shifted his grip on his pistol, eying them. They … weren't doing anything. Or at least nothing he could tell. He supposed they must be doing a Force thing.

He went to the forward compartment and looked out. The viewport was hazy with a network of fine cracks, but he could still make out the feet and legs of the AT-ATs and AT-M6s. There was motion around them – white and black blurs too indistinct for him to identify.

Lady was at his shoulder. "What do you see? I can't see out the screen."

He shook his head. "There are troopers out there. I can't tell how many or if they're manning big guns." He turned around and went to the ramp, edging his way around the still-communing trio. Chewbacca moan-growled something at him. Finn wasn't sure exactly what it was as he'd only been out of the Order for three to four weeks now. In any case, he said, "I'm just looking."

The ramp was steep. The supports had been cut, so it hung limply and with the ship partly tipped to one side, that meant the ramp was more like a grated chute. He leaned out carefully, trying to keep as much cover as possible. There was, indeed, a mass of troopers on the other end of the hangar, arranged under the legs of the walkers. Lady was behind him again, so Finn said, "Looks like, maybe a company out there. On foot, mostly. A few walkers. No emplacements. But they're just standing there. They're not even all aiming at us."

"Some are, though?"

"Yeah, some are. We're definitely what they're paying attention to. None are close. They're not moving."

"You said that already," she said. "Do you see the general?"

"No." He looked around, trying to figure out where Hux had gone. "Get me the quadnocs. I don't see him anywhere." She fetched them from whoever had them – probably Poe. Finn scanned the crowd. "I still don't see him," he said. "There's no knot of people, no group paying attention to something behind them. Do we go out there?"

"No."

Finn huffed. He probably shouldn't have asked unless he'd intended to follow her orders. He wanted to argue, but he basically agreed. "They could start firing again at any moment. And I don't even see where we'd go." He turned and looked anxiously at Rey, Kylo, and Poe, who were still doing whatever they were doing. Everyone else was waiting like he was – the stormtroopers had formed up in neat, tightly-packed rows on the tilted deck, and behind them the Resistance members all had weapons in hand. But waiting.

Finally, something happened. Poe stepped away from Rey and Kylo, blinking around the place like he'd just woke up. He turned to the ramp and for a half-second, Finn thought Poe was coming to talk to him – maybe about the tactical situation or what he'd found out during the mind-meld with the other two. But Poe didn't pause. He just picked up speed and jumped right out of the shuttle like a maniac, then sprinted across the open hangar like he was oblivious to the danger.

"Poe!" Finn said, exasperated and startled. Then he held his breath. Two shots were lobbed Poe's way and only at the very end, as he skidded to a stop in front of a door and hit the buttons to open it. The two blaster bolts were wild, striking the doors as they whisked open. Poe ran inside and darted to the left, leaving the door open behind him.

Obviously, the troopers outside had been as surprised by Poe's mad dash as Finn was, but now the element of surprise was gone. With a resigned tone, Lady said to her people, "They will be shooting at us the entire way across. Priority is to get through the far door. Do not stop to engage. Repeat: Do not stop to engage in return fire."

A mix of "Sir, yes sir" and "Yes sir" met her.

Finn got to his feet and said with resignation, "I'll take point."


	98. Hux 23

[Hux]

* * *

Poe found him somehow, but it also felt right that Poe would find him. As though it were unlikely that Poe would ever _not_ find him. Poe put an arm across his shoulders and pulled him up, embracing him as they crouched on the floor. "I've got you," Poe murmured. "I've got you. It's okay."

"He's gone." Hux's hands trembled where he clutched Poe's shirt. It was hard to believe his own words. He let go long enough to wipe his mouth on his sleeve, then went back to clinging. He felt so tired and weak, but at least Poe's presence drove out the feeling that he was surrounded by expectant wraiths.

"Yeah, he's gone. It's just us now." Poe rocked them back and forth. There was a thunder of footsteps coming out of the hangar along with a spattering of blaster bolts. Poe amended, "Okay, it's not just us now." Finn led the charge into the hallway, closely followed by both squads of stormtroopers, with Rose and Kaydel behind them. Rey and Kylo weren't to be seen. Neither were the aliens.

Hux pulled himself together and got to his feet, hoping no one would notice he'd been sick on the floor, or the way his hands were still shaking. He stayed next to the wall in case he swayed. He said, "We need to get to the command center and get control of the ship." His voice came out pitchy and unsteady.

"Where's Sidious?" Finn asked abruptly. Hux just blinked at him, his train of thought interrupted. Finn repeated, "Where's the body?"

Body? There hadn't been a body. That's why Sidious had needed Hux. Had this … not been explained to anyone? He didn't think it had been, now that he thought about it. He'd thought 'spiritual possession' was self-explanatory. Hux looked at the vomit, which meant of course everyone else did. Could he pass that off as Sith ectoplasm?

"Is that him?" Finn asked.

Apparently, he could. "Yes," he said, lying through his teeth. "Yes, it is."

"That's revolting."

Hux turned, ready to head down the corridor. Halfway to them were two red-clad troopers, looking something like a more functional and less ornamental version of the imperial guard. Having been seen (and really – how had they _not_ managed to see two people in red not that far away?), the pair fell into battle stances, brandishing … polearms. Vibro-axes, specifically, but they were melee weapons.

Pragmatically, Lt. Lady said, "Shoot them." And began to do just that. As it turned out, their armor was proof against normal blasters. But also as it turned out, they were not proof against FN-9037's heavy blaster rifle. One of them fell after making only a single step forward. But the other charged in, covering the distance too fast for FN-9037 to switch targets before the red warrior was in their midst. Hux reached for his blaster, but the holster was still empty. He fell back.

Lady dodged out of the way, the enemy's blade cutting into the deck where she'd been standing. Finn, on the other side of him, tripped him. It sent him staggering to one knee and a hand on the deck, the other still holding his weapon. So one of the troopers kicked him in the head with a perfect volley kick. Armor or not, that much blunt impact to the face snapped his head up and to the side, then he collapsed to all fours, weapon rattling to the deck. He was probably only stunned, but it was impossible to tell through the helmet.

Threat neutralized for the moment, the group paused and looked to Hux for direction. "Kill him," Hux said. He went down the hall to where Sidious had tossed his weapons earlier.

The trooper who had kicked him before obliged, even as Finn said, "No!" With that second hard thunk to the face, the red warrior sprawled, head at an unnatural angle. "These are your own guys!" Finn said.

"Then use stun charges on the rest of them," Hux said, picking up his blaster and knife, trying to be discreet about supporting himself against the wall as he did it. "That one was hand-picked by Palpatine – a personal servant."

"You were Snoke's right hand man!" Finn shot back.

Well … he had him there. So Hux made a joke and changed the subject. "That was Ren. I was the left. It's more sinister. Speaking of which, where is he?"

The group turned, noting two things: the absence of several members of their party – Ren, Rey, Chewbacca, and Threnalli; and that stormtroopers were rushing up to the open door they'd left behind them. Connix yelped and slammed the button to close it. It was a big hangar, but obviously the troopers hadn't crossed it right away. There must have been some time spent regrouping or getting new orders. Palpatine's absence had been noticed, Hux realized. Someone else was now in charge.

"Bigs, keep the door shut," Lady barked. One of the troopers hurried to obey. The doors opened anyway and two blaster shots came in, but then the blast doors slammed shut and blocked further shots.

Poe said, "We have to get back to them! Those troopers haven't searched the ship yet, but they will."

"They'll override the door in seconds," said the trooper kneeling next to the door controls, tapping furiously at the auxiliary keypad. He must have been named Bigs. He was of an average size, so the name meant nothing at the moment.

"There are too many of them," Hux said, staring at the door and trying to figure out a way out of this. His brain felt severely overtaxed. The charade of acting competent was taking up most of his available capability. Lady hurriedly ordered everyone into firing positions.

Finn got in his face and said, "Give me some guys. We'll make a distraction at the other end. Then you can go."

Poe said, "We shouldn't be splitting up."

Finn said, "We're _already _split up!"

Hux gave this plan about one second of thought, then agreed. "Lieutenant – send a squad with Finn. He'll distract them."

Another second as she doubtless realized what he was doing, then she turned and said, "FN squad. You're with Finn. Move!" Finn ran unevenly, but he still ran. He was closely followed by five troopers. One of them was the one who had been working on the door. He was smoothly replaced by another without Lady giving other orders.

Poe said, "Why does everyone keep-!"

The doors snapped open. Three blaster bolts flew through the door to strike the opposite wall. But as no one was stupidly still standing in front of the door, this didn't matter. The doors snapped shut again.

Poe finished, "keep splitting up? How are we going to meet back up with them?" He gestured after Finn's group.

"Change positions. Next time they'll reorient," Lady said, ignoring Poe. She looked over her shoulder to see where Hux was. He had sensibly flattened himself against the wall, blaster in hand but without a clear shot given the six troopers and two Resistance members between him and his foes. Poe was next to him. Hux took his hand briefly and squeezed it. It was all they had time for.


	99. Finn 8

[Finn]

* * *

'_I am looking at the eyes of a man who wants to run.'_

It was true then. It was true now. But the reasons he was running were completely different. Like he'd told Rose – he was running _to_ something now. Not away. At his back were his brothers and sisters, the only family he'd ever known. The one he was going to come back for.

There had been a beat of hesitation before the lieutenant assigned the FN fire team to him. Designations meant things and he'd read the meanings of theirs on their first encounter, so basic he hadn't even thought to explain to those in the Resistance.

The FN team were fellow graduates, his same age, same legion. That meant they'd been in their position for most of a year. Their designations were close enough that he knew they'd served together that entire time. Even their team leader was an FN. Only the staff sergeant and upper management was different, so he knew which ones worked best together just by reading off the letters and numbers.

The other fire team was a mish-mash of different years and ships, probably put together from the remnants of other groups and partnered with the FN fire team to lend them stability. That meant the lieutenant had given him the better team. On purpose. It was a breath-taking vote of confidence in his plan and his ability to execute it. She could have insisted she be allowed to lead it. Or sent the staff sergeant. But she'd trusted her best unit to him and left the job of defending the general and executing the shuttle rescue to the less practiced fire team.

He'd do his best not to fall down on the job. Literally as well as figuratively. His left thigh was giving him a stabbing pain with each stride. His butt as well. The worst of the wounds inflicted by the bugs were reopening under the strain of intense physical exertion. His leg beyond the knee felt like an ungainly weight, harder to swing forward, harder to lift his knee, shortening his stride on one side. Fortunately, so far, it held his weight.

The troopers with him adjusted their pace to match his. By the time they reached the far hangar bay door, he wasn't running. He was lumbering. But he'd made it. As he stopped and caught his breath, he could feel blood trickling down his leg, having already saturated the fabric. And here he'd thought he was done bleeding for the First Order.

"Electronics Specialist – get the door open. Everyone else – let's get their attention."

They emerged into the far end of the hangar bay. The enormous feet of an old-style AT-AT stood before them, the rest of the machine towering overhead. Next to it on the right was another and past that one of the larger, upgraded AT-M6s. To the left was cargo – ammunition and fuel containers for the most part. He didn't look at them long other than noting the delightful poor tactics of standing in the middle of explosive, flammable crates.

They didn't have time to seek better ground. Instead, they fired at the company of stormtroopers that were getting organized around the door they'd gone through earlier. A few squads were peeling off even now to head over to the crashed ship. All were suitably distracted to start taking fire from their rear. The squads headed toward the shuttle turned around rejoined the rest. After some milling around, the bulk of the troopers came running straight for them, a few of them firing wildly on the move.

"Get cover!" Finn called out as he hid himself behind the nearest of the AT-AT's feet. As if it had heard him, the AT-AT began moving forward, taking his cover with it. "Blast it!" He threw himself behind a fuel cannister, favoring his injured leg.

For people in armor, standard blaster bolts generally weren't lethal at the ranges they were currently firing at. However, he wasn't in armor. And in any case, they were soon going to be in lethal range even for his fire team, who were armored. Finn called out, "Switch settings to stun!" Their next barrage against the enemy was half-hearted, because stun charges didn't have the range even of blaster bolts. They dispersed too fast and the company charging at them knew this.

The enemy pulled up in the middle of the hangar bay, safely out of range of stun charges. For the moment, they didn't fire. The AT-AT was still ponderously moving to turn itself around. Whoever was in it had clearly decided to engage, but turning around such a huge war machine took time. The two walkers that strode up behind the bunched company of troopers had no such problem, though.

Finn made an inarticulate noise of frustration. He didn't want to go back to lethal rounds – he didn't want to kill for the Order, especially his own people – but in a moment, they were going to be lacerated by high-power bolts from those walkers. He looked over to FN-9037, who also had high-power bolts with his heavy blaster rifle. "Can you do something about that?"

The trooper was standing, but behind two stacked crates so only his head, top of his shoulders, and rifle were exposed. He flipped the gun from stun to lethal, which would be necessary to do anything to the walkers. He looked downrange and pulled the trigger. The company commander fell over, shot.

Finn gulped. "Okay. Not what I was expecting, but okay." For a moment, almost comically, everyone in the enemy company looked at the person on the ground. Even the walkers turned to look. Finn knew what was about to happen next – command would transfer and the replacement would order a full attack for revenge. In the distance, he could see their people starting across the hangar with only a few shooting at them.

The distraction was done. They needed to get out of here. But he couldn't run. He physically wasn't capable of it. He yelled at his group, "Back outside the doors!"

They pulled back, but the walker opened fire before they were entirely out. FN-9021 was blasted through the door to Finn's right, his body slamming into the far wall and slumping to the floor. There was no doubt he was dead. "Bigs!" shouted one of his troopers, an anguished tone to his voice.

Everyone still alive threw themselves to either side as the barrage continued, interspersed with wild but less dangerous shots from rifles. Now they were split, three on one side, two on the other, with withering fire through the open door between them.

He hit the controls on the hangar door, but nothing happened. "Electronics Specialist! Shut the doors." Finn turned to the trooper next to him. "You have thermal detonators? Grenades?" He was pretty sure even internal security carried something like that.

Sergeant FN-9013 said, "Yes sir! One each."

"Gimme yours. And you," he gestured at one of the troopers on the other side of the still-open doors, "throw yours inside, behind the containers. We have to stop them or we'll be overrun!"

They threw out the grenades, setting off a chain reaction of concussion that was less spectacular than he'd feared (honestly, he'd thought it might kill all of them), but good enough to do the job. That job was to litter the far end of the hangar – and especially outside their door – with debris and ordinance. The foot soldiers stopped again, but whether it was due to debris or just good judgment was hard to tell, for the AT-AT began firing, slugging the walls with disastrous firepower that made the walkers look like pea-shooters.

Finn turned and tried again to trigger the blast doors as shrapnel and superheated air buffeted them. The control board lit up red and blinking. "Where's the Electronics Specialist?" Finn yelled.

"Dead." The sergeant pointed at the man crumpled at the base of the far wall and half-vaporized by a blast from the AT-AT.

There was no way to shut the doors. Which mean no way to stop them from being overrun. The only reason the AT-AT wasn't blowing them to pieces was because the blast doors were inside the walls they were crouching behind. The AT-AT stopped. "Here they come," Finn muttered, knowing what was about to happen. "Grenades again! The other two of you! On my mark!" He peeked around the edge, seeing that as he'd expected, the ground troops were coming in. "Mark!"

One grenade flew true. The other – the trooper stepped out to arc it and was pasted by three separate bolts, taking him down. He was a little guy. One of the smallest troopers Finn had ever seen but he hadn't paid much attention to it until the man fell bonelessly, his grenade rolling free of his hand and stopping just past the threshold of the door. It was blinking. Activated. The timers were generally very short.

Finn stood. He had the crazy impulse to run for the grenade, grab it and throw it, or just throw himself on top of it to save his unit. That suicidal impulse, a willingness to die for the cause no matter what, had been programmed into him since his earliest memories. It was a good death, a meaningful death, which validated a person's entire life in the Order.

But it was wrong. He shouldn't just give his life away like that. He was worth _more_. To Rose. To himself. Maybe even to the Order itself and the people in it. He hesitated.

Then the grenade was gone, propelled away by a ridiculously precise blaster bolt next to the floor where it had rested a moment before. It bounced out into the hangar and exploded in the air. Finn gaped at the trooper on the other side – the one with the heavy blaster who'd taken out the company commander earlier.

"Okay, that's also fine." He turned his attention to their opponents, who had been momentarily repulsed by the grenades, and were now having to pick their way through the mess. Finn and what remained of his team slammed stun rounds into them, dropping them in number.

In turn, Finn lost another trooper on the other side of the doorway as he was clipped in the breastplate and went down. It was possible he was alive, but he was out of commission. The only ones left were Finn, the sergeant next to him, and the sharpshooter on the opposite side. The next wave was going to swamp them – no question about it. Finn and group might be shooting stun rounds, but their enemies weren't.

Damn it. He hadn't meant to die. This was supposed to be a distraction, but he couldn't run and he wasn't going to leave his troops anyway. Just as his last hope was wavering, he heard the shuttle engines roar to life and the guns on it engage. He couldn't see what happened, but the shrieking metal, erratic shots, and loud crashing noises was enough to tell him someone was coming to his rescue. Again.

He grinned briefly to himself, giddy with relief. He was so lucky. He really hoped she found it within herself to forgive him for rejoining the Order.


	100. Rey 11

[Rey]

* * *

With a final effort, Rey and Kylo severed the spiritual ties Sidious had been using to power himself. It was like tearing open bad stitches or rebreaking a bone that was healing wrong. It hurt, but it had to be done, releasing all the trapped psychic power of the wound in the Force caused by the destruction of the Hosnian system. The shockwave was inflicted anew on anyone sensitive to the Force. She'd felt it the first time on Starkiller Base, but this time she was already exhausted, overtaxed and barely hanging on.

Poe parted from them. The thread of Hux's consciousness slipped from her failing mental fingers. She sagged against Kylo, feeling her very grip on reality wavering. Her head spun with the thudding of boots and calls of her departing friends. The physical world didn't seem to matter anymore.

"Rey? Rey!"

The ghosts of Hosnia were a sea of so many faces that they blended together into an unrecognizable blur. Their voices were a dull roar, impossible to pick out names or words. Their presence filled her senses. She hardly knew where she ended and they began. It was a soothing anonymity, but she was incomplete somehow. It didn't seem right.

Whoever was calling to her made another, more pointed attempt. "Come back to me, sweetheart." This time it connected, tugging on something inside her.

_That_ voice. That voice was one she knew, one that made her complete. It stood out, distinct and real where everything else was a fog. She turned toward it, but that was the most she could do. She'd become one with the Force, she realized, slowly pulling together conscious thought. She was _dead_. "Kylo? Ben?"

"I'm here. Come back to me."

"I can't." He was still alive. Whatever had happened with the floodgates opened after Sidious was repulsed, Kylo had been able to hang on. She felt relief.

"Then I'll come to you."

"No! No!" She had only her voice. She had no way to keep him from following her. "You'll die!"

His presence drew near, touching hers and she couldn't deny the comfort it brought to be together with him. "I won't live without you, either."

She felt, somehow, that she held his hands, that tears filled her eyes and tracked down her cheeks. "Maybe this is why we didn't see what happened next, after Sidious tried to possess Hux."

"Maybe." She felt his lips on her forehead. It was a balm.

She sniffed. "Why do you even want me?" she whispered. "I'm just some scavenger who had the Force. We know … we know for sure now the bond was something Snoke made."

They'd demonstrated that with incontrovertible fact by following Snoke's research and creating a similar one between Poe Dameron and Armitage Hux. There was now no doubt their tie was due to the self-serving manipulations of an ambitious dark sider and not some divine wish of the Force – not that she'd had much doubt of this after Snoke admitted to it. She'd secretly hoped he was lying, though. She looked up at Kylo's face, seeing his features because she knew them, not because she was able to see.

"You came for me on the _Supremacy_," he said. "The bond didn't make you do that." He paused and a flicker of doubt resonated through his aura. "Did it?"

"No. It didn't. It let me see you. It let me understand you. But …"

He raised a hand to her face, softly wiping away her tears. He kissed her again on the forehead. "But what?"

"I wanted you."

"You have me. Forever. We aren't meant for each other because of the Force. We're meant for each other because we will it, because of the choices we make to be together. I see that now."

She tilted her head up, wanting to kiss him and feel his lips against hers, even if it was in this strange place. But a familiar, gravelly, long-suffering voice broke in to say, "You don't belong here."

"Luke!" she said, blinking away tears. She could sense him, feel him. She knew he was drawing near.

Kylo stepped between her and the impression of his uncle, protecting her though she didn't think she needed it. Somehow she heard the click of Kylo taking his lightsaber off the D-ring at his belt. How did it exist here? Would it function? But he didn't ignite it. Luke's attention shifted to Kylo. He added, "Neither of you do. When I said I'd see you around, kid, that wasn't an invitation to come visit." He paused and his voice softened. "Your mother's worried about you."

"My mother …?"

"I know you remember her," Luke said sarcastically.

Kylo made a noise in his throat, like he was choking on a laugh. "Do you?"

"I do. I talked to her. She wasn't happy with me, but she had the chance to tell me to my, uh, face."

"A familiar tactic of yours these days," Kylo said. "And overdue."

Something about Luke's presence indicated a shrug. "It's all I've got left. As far as the living are concerned. Take it or leave it."

"She lives." The lightsaber hilt disappeared from Kylo's hand, fading out like he wasn't thinking of it anymore. Kylo asked, "If that's so, then how do we get out of here?"

Luke said, "That's simple. All you have to do is trust me." Rey felt Kylo withdraw slightly. He felt … younger. Regressed to that night. Uncertain. Luke seemed to have expected the reaction. He was quiet as Kylo decided what to do.

"I trust him," Rey said, fitting her hand into Kylo's and trying to reassure him.

"Wouldn't you trust him anyway?" Kylo asked. "Another father figure?"

"Maybe," she said defiantly, but without letting go. "But I fought him for what he did to you, until he told me the truth. That's when I knew I had to go to the _Supremacy_ and talk to you myself. To try to bring … I wanted to bring you with me, but I also wanted to be with you."

Kylo looked to Luke and moved forward to be next to her. The mantel of youth dropped away. With difficulty, he said, "I trust you."

"Shut your eyes," Luke said. "Turn your focus inward. Go to sleep."

"As simple as that?" Rey said, not yet shutting her eyes. The directions seemed intentionally barbed to hit Kylo's insecurities. But that seemed to be Luke's way. It was how he'd been with her and it was annoying, yes, but it also forced growth.

Kylo gave her hand a small squeeze. "I can do it. He's the one who will be doing the heavy lifting."

"You're lighter if you're not paying attention to anything," Luke agreed. "I'll take care of Sidious now that he's lost his power base." She heard Luke in her mind, his voice fading into the distance as Rey closed out the world around her. "You just make sure that kid of his holds up his end of the bargain. And stop doing this stuff. You'll get stuck here and then it's over for you. Mostly."

The vague, disconnected swirl of everything faded, replaced by a sense of reality, complete with ozone-tainted air and distressed Wookiee noises. She opened her eyes to find them back in the ruined shuttle, Chewbacca on his knees in front of them with an expression shifting from grieved to shocked, and C'ai at his shoulder apparently trying to offer comfort. C'ai stared at them just as surprised.

Rey cleared her throat, wondering what they'd seen. "Um. We're fine. Completely fine. We're alright."

Chewbacca got to his feet and hugged the both of them, growling something about how they'd disappeared and their clothes were on the floor and then they came back. (Rey and Kylo were, as far as she could tell, now clothed exactly as they had been when the shuttle had launched.) C'ai moved to pat both of them on the back as though reassuring himself they were solid.

"We're alright," Rey said when Chewbacca stepped back. Her tone was earnest and not the fake one she used with others. "Really."

"We're good," Kylo added quietly. His eyes were wet.

She was just turning to speak with him when they heard a commotion spring up outside – pounding feet and blaster fire, headed their way.


	101. Rose 8

[Rose]

* * *

Hux said to Poe, "I need the Force users to retake the fleet. If I have to spend a squad to get them, I will."

"Spend?" Rose said, turning to the two, but she didn't get to say more before she was ducking blaster fire. The dueling electronics specialists working the doors let them snap open long enough for shots to be fired before they closed again. One of the troopers on their side hissed with pain, having been shot in the upper arm just under the shoulder pauldron. Lady rotated their positions again.

"Finn needs more time," Poe said to Hux. "Talk to them or something!"

"What?" Hux said, looking confused.

"Talk!" Poe said. At Hux's continued befuddlement, Poe said, "Never mind. I'll do it." He moved forward next to the trooper who was crouched at the door, working the controls. One of the panels was open, wiring and circuits exposed. Poe pointed at a button that was intact. "Is this the intercom?" She nodded.

Meanwhile, Rose confronted Hux. "What do you mean, 'spend'? That was not a suicide mission! We are going to link up with them again! He's not even fully healed!" It kept cycling through her mind that watching Finn run off might be the last time she saw him alive. He'd pulled this crap before. Had he not learned anything from it?

Hux gaped as though unable to find words. She doubted anyone ever called him on his decisions like this. Behind her, Poe was chattering at the intercom, doing his best to buy time. It was something, at least: "Hello, this is Commander Poe Dameron. Emperor Palpatine is not quite finished with whatever it is he's doing to General Hux, but he would really appreciate it if you'd stop distracting him with this door business."

"Who is this?" crackled over the intercom a moment later in an angry tone.

"I told you that," Poe said, speaking more slowly. "Commander Poe Dameron of the Resistance."

"Let me speak to General Hux!"

"Uh, he's not really able to make a statement at the moment," Poe looked over his shoulder at where Hux and Rose were standing, then back to the intercom. "He's, uh, kind of making choking noises right now and doing a lot of writhing around on the floor. Listen, we brought him here as agreed, Palpatine is doing his thing. I don't know how long this process takes. Do you?"

"What?"

"Do you know how long it takes for a ghost to possess someone?" There was no response on the other end. Poe added, "Because I don't really know. We're just doing what we're told, here."

"Open the door!"

"But you'll shoot us," Poe said reasonably.

"Open the door anyway!"

"Uh … No?" Poe turned his palms up helplessly, as though confused why anyone would think that was an order he might follow. "You'll shoot us and interrupt this possession thing. We don't get paid unless Palpatine gets his man. That's how it goes."

"You're- They're bounty hunters?" The tone changed after the first word, like the comm was open but they were talking among themselves. Another voice said, "Didn't he say they were Resist-" They heard blaster fire erupt on the other end of the line, followed by the comm clicking off.

"That's Finn," Rose said, sick to her stomach to know he was in combat now.

Poe shrugged. "Okay, that was enough time. Great."

Hux said, "Get ready to head back to the ship."

"Yes, sir." Lady turned to her troops and barked orders. "DL-8192 and FO-1282, you're first out. Stop at the ramp and provide cover." They moved in front of the doors. She looked around to the rest. "Ready!"

"Sir, yes sir," muttered H-482. He broke formation to move to the opposite side of the door, where he leaned against the frame with his blaster held up and ready to provide crossfire cover when the door opened. Rose had a feeling he wasn't supposed to be over there, but no one told him to get back with the rest.

"Yes sir," came from FL-2216 in a tone more appropriate for the moment.

Rose turned to Hux and said, "We're going back for him." Hux didn't argue. She fell in line with Kaydel. Kaydel said, "Ready," and Rose added, "Yep," to make sure everyone was going as a unit.

Lady moved behind Poe and Hux. "DL-1364 and I are last." She turned to where DL-1364 was crouched next to the door controls. "Open it."

The doors opened and everyone swayed forward, but the blast doors stayed shut. DL-1364 worked at the controls, then the blast doors slid open as well. Four troopers were at the door, looking surprised at it having opened. H-482 shot one of them point blank. That one flew into a second and knocked them both down. DL-8192 shot at another (missing even though they were almost close enough to kick), but was then dashing off on her assignment to take the ramp and provide covering fire from there.

Rose ran with the group, staying focused on covering the distance as quickly as possible. The remaining troopers at the door recovered and fired wildly at them as they went. The first two troopers of their side skidded to a stop at the ramp, firing back so that no one could take a measured shot at them. Most of the troopers in the hangar were converging on the other end where Finn was doing his thing along with the FN squad. Rose wanted to look. She couldn't risk stopping to do it.

Everyone scrambled up the sharply-tilted ramp. Once in the main compartment, Rose wheeled to see the lieutenant turn at the top of the ramp and yell down, "Come on, trooper! Give me your hand!" She dove halfway down the ramp, grabbing at whoever was trying to make it as though they couldn't do it themselves. Chewbacca (who'd been standing just to the side of the ramp and could see what was going on) seized her feet so the lieutenant didn't go tumbling out. He pulled and came up with the lieutenant and the trooper Lady was helping

Rose looked around the compartment, doing a quick headcount. "We're missing one."

H-482 next to her said, "DL-8192 didn't make it. Died giving covering fire for the rest of us."

The one who'd been hauled in by brute force stumbled and collapsed, blood running down the back of her leg from her knee or upper calf. It was the same one who'd been shot in the arm earlier. "I'm fine," the trooper was repeating, unable to stand. "I'm fine."

People were yelling – Poe at the lieutenant that she wouldn't be allowed to shoot one of her troopers; Hux at Rey and Kylo for not being able to use the Force at his command; Chewbacca that they needed to guard the ramp; the staff sergeant at one of the other troopers she'd physically pulled away from the ramp and was now shoving into a corner.

Rose had no time for this. She went to the forward compartment. "Poe! I need you."

"But what good is it?" Hux was yelling at Kylo. "Now we're holed up in this wreck with no way out?"

From the cockpit, Rose said, "I've got a way. Poe, get your ass up here! Everyone else, hold on!"

"You watch them!" Poe called behind him to C'ai as he came up. "All of them!" He slid into the co-pilot's seat and said to Rose, "What are we doing?"

She was powering up the engines. They hadn't been off long enough to have cooled down, so it was a quick process. "We're joining up with Finn." And none too soon. One of the AT-AT's had turned around and was firing on Finn's probable location. It stopped to let a wave of troopers charge the area it had previously been slagging.

"We are? How-?"

She cut him off. "You're on weapons. Shoot them! I know what I'm doing!" Rey and Kylo had apparently used whatever power they had to keep everyone safe inside the ship, which had the side effect of mostly keeping the ship undamaged (or at least, not additionally damaged). It was still the rocket it had been planetside: main engines online, repulsors working, and one maneuvering jet still answering.

"Got it," Poe said, not asking further questions. He pulled up the weapons interface and started firing the one ship's gun that worked. With the viewport so thoroughly spider-webbed with cracks, Rose couldn't see if he was hitting anything important. She doubted he was, but any shots would divert attention from Finn. Poe's field of fire was badly limited by the angle of the ship, canted to the side as it was, and there were no sensors working whatsoever.

She powered up the repulsors and the vessel lifted, dragging the one remaining wing and the dangling, broken ramp. Again she called out, "Hang on!" Poe got off some more shots, actually managing to hit an AT-M6 in the thing's hulking shoulders. Rose feathered the controls for the main engines, shooting them forward similar to what Kylo had done in the forest to get them off the trees. She put more power to it than he had, straining the maneuvering jet to keep them straight for as long as possible.

They crashed into the back legs of the AT-AT that had been turned around, flipping it over them and onto its side as they went on to crash into a second one that had still been facing outward. The ship slewed to the side, with the second of the walking terrors falling on top of it. There were shrieks of metal and explosions outside. The viewport shattered and jagged pieces of transparisteel fell across the cockpit. The shuttle ended even more tilted than it had been before. But they'd crossed the hangar and hopefully crashed right in front of the door Finn and his squad were using as cover.

Rose sprang out of her seat and ran to the rear, half climbing the floor to get to the ramp. "Everybody out!"

Behind her, she heard Hux yell, "Out!" which struck her as supremely funny – mostly the mental image that the remaining troopers might stoically remain in the ship if he hadn't repeated her order. They probably weren't that stupid, she thought. Then she remembered the ones who had tried to order Poe to open the hangar door even after he'd pointed out they were only going to kill everyone if he did. They hadn't even denied it. Maybe some of them _were_ that stupid.

Anyway, she jumped out of the ramp opening (the ramp itself now dangled perpendicular to the deck). The ground was littered with debris and bodies. There were … rather a lot of bodies … but none of them were the black uniform Finn was currently wearing. She shook it off and ran to where she could see him. He fired several shots past her and to the left. They were the circular discharges of stun bolts. So were the shots fired by the troopers with him. The bodies must not be dead, she realized.

"You're okay!" she called to him, taking cover behind him.

"Yeah, doing great! You landed on a bunch of people."

"I did?" He'd been trying not to kill people and then she'd … ew.

"Yeah." He kept firing, providing cover for the rest of the group as they unloaded from the ship. But she only saw two wild bolts fly in their direction. Crashing the ship across the hangar had scattered their opponents and created a lull in the attack. The bulk of the shuttle's hull, along with the wreck of one of the AT-ATs, blocked most lines of fire.

"Out of ammo," one of the troopers reported.

"Go rob the downed guys," Finn said as their party reunited. "We have cover." C'ai was carrying their wounded trooper slung over his shoulder. One of the other troopers was being shoved along by the corporal like she was a prisoner or a sulky teenager.

Rose took quick stock. Even if Finn was fine (and there was a suspicious spattering of blood on the deck under him), only two of his five troopers were on their feet. Their shuttle was ruined, Rey and Kylo seemed out of it, and they were trapped on a hostile First Order ship. They were running out of options. "What now?"


	102. Hux 24

[Hux]

* * *

They gathered in the hallway next to the smoking, half-vaporized corpse of one of their less fortunate stormtroopers. It stank of blood and char, but Hux wasn't about to move them further away. Obviously, Ren needed the reminder of what they were facing. Hux asked him (more civilly than he had in the shuttle), "You said you could still use the Force – 'maybe'. Were you lying?"

"Maybe," Ren said.

It was probably a good thing Hux didn't have the Force, or else he'd be throttling Ren with it at this very moment. Rey rolled her eyes. "Assume he wasn't. Now what?"

"Then we have to do this the traditional way." Hux spared Poe a quick glance, but there was nothing Poe could do for him except complicate things. "At significantly more risk." He turned to Lt. Lady. "All uninjured troopers on me. The rest of you, lay down your weapons and surrender."

"Surrender?" Kaydel said in a squawk.

"They'll take you prisoner and I'll have you released once I'm back in command."

"What's the traditional way?" Poe asked as Finn, Rose, and Kaydel discussed this in the background.

"I kill people," Hux answered. He was not in the best shape to do this (his thoughts were still scrambled and looking at Poe made him feel weird, but good-weird, which was also weird, because he was standing next to a pair of corpses and this really wasn't the time to have these feelings), but it would have to do.

"I'll come with you," Poe said.

"No! You will stay here," he said with more emotion than such a simple order was called for, "where it's safer." He also didn't need to explain himself, but he did.

Poe blinked at him, raised his brows a bit, and didn't argue. He was uncommonly handsome. And staring at him, lips slightly parted, hair in disarray, a day's stubble on his face. Gleaming, dark eyes and a presence about him Hux couldn't articulate beyond knowing it. Feeling it. Poe had come for him. Held him. Kissed him. Maybe even loved him. What if the troopers _did_ kill him and he never saw Poe alive again? Or if Hux was shot dead as soon as he got to the bridge? Or if he never made it to the bridge?

He really didn't have time for this. "Hells." Hux grabbed Poe and kissed him fiercely, openly, plundering his mouth as much as he could. Poe leaned into it with a moan.

"General?" Finn piped up. "You need to go. They're coming through!"

Hux shoved Poe away and strode off for the elevators, five stormtroopers falling in place at his back.


	103. Poe 13

[Poe]

* * *

He stood there in half a daze after the kiss ended, the broad grin on his face getting even wider as he watched Hux stride away. General Armitage Hux was in love with him. Poe was absolutely sure. Plus, he was hot. And powerful. And confident. And capable. Did he mention hot?

Poe's cheeks hurt from how big his grin was. His fists rested on his hips. His head was back, chest out. He was so pleased with how this was all working out. That was his _husband_. A couple weeks ago, he'd been razzing this guy over an open channel and then blew up his dreadnought. And now the guy was kissing him like he was the one Hux had every intention of coming back for after the war. How had he ever gotten this lucky?

"Poe? Poe, get down!" Finn called, but Poe didn't pay him any mind. "Everyone get down. Sit on the floor. Weapons on the ground. Hands up. Poe!" Hux was disappearing into the lift, doors whisking shut behind him and the troopers. Poe watched the man's proud bearing (and tight little ass – despite the rumples, that uniform still looked really smart on him) until he was out of sight. Finn's tone changed to an urgent, forced whisper: "Poe, don't move."

Which, of course, Poe moved. But slowly. At first, he only turned his head to see that a mob of stormtroopers had come up through the debris-strewn hangar. They crowded the door, blasters pointed at everyone. The Resistance and their associated troopers were sitting on the floor, their weapons on the deck and hands up.

Poe raised his hands slowly as he turned to face them. His grin faded as two in the middle shouldered their weapons, pointed directly at him. They wouldn't miss from this range, but then again, why would they shoot him? He wasn't posing a threat. "Hey guys."

They shot him anyway. And that was it for Poe Dameron.

* * *

**[This story is not a tragedy. See the tags – no main character death. And the next chapter.]**


	104. Spots 3

[Spots]

* * *

The big alien had set her down carefully against the far side of the corridor, well outside the door to the hangar and away from the others. Spots ignored them. She was panting and staring at the trail of blood she'd left behind them. She kept thinking about the high, thready sound of Ten-ten's voice before the Old Man had terminated him. Shot him. Killed him.

The rest of the group was likewise settling to the floor, putting their weapons on the ground, and grumbling at one of them who was still standing and ignoring the others. Next to her, the alien said something in his own language, then gently removed the armor plates from her lower leg. She could feel the pressure as he unfastened the plates, but it was nothing next to the constant icy burn in her calf – what was left of her calf, at least. And whatever was wrong with her knee.

She could imagine how she'd been hit – the angle, the degree of penetration. It had happened right at the end as she'd turned for the ramp. DL-8192 was down, a hole in the faceplate of her helmet. It had been quick for her. It wasn't quick for FO-1284 - Spots. She didn't know why Lady had gone to the trouble of pulling her up the ramp. Just like she didn't know why Threnalli was helping her now.

The alien's thick fingers bunched up the black fabric of the body glove and pulled it upward. It was elastic. He stretched it open and raised it over the bleeding wound. He leaned to one side and then the other, examining the position, then settled the doubled-up glove over the wound so it would tighten around it. It hurt. She cried out and reflexively tried to stiffen her leg.

"This will stop the bleeding," he said.

"You shouldn't bother," she told him when she was able to speak again. "I'd rather bleed out than be shot. Again." There were troopers now in the hangar doorway, pointing blasters at everyone, but they were more concerned about the people close to the door and the guy standing up than they were about her. She was off to the side and injured, no threat to anyone. She didn't even have her blaster anymore.

Threnalli didn't see them yet. Kindly, he said, "We are on a starship. They have a medbay. You will be fine." He laid a big, blood-stained hand on her good knee.

"I'll never be able to walk again." She wasn't sure of that, but she feared it was true and she doubted anyone would waste treatment on her to find out. "It's blown out my knee." All she knew was it wouldn't hold her weight. Medical lessons were skimpy. What she certain of was that lack of basic mobility was on the long list of reasons for termination.

"They can find you a desk job," he said like that was a reasonable thing. He patted the good knee.

"They don't give desk jobs to privates." She reached up and wrenched off her helmet with her good arm. She was hot under it, sweating from the pain from her leg and arm both. Her ears fluttered back and forth, cooling her. "Especially not ones with flappy ears."

Four troopers circled her and the alien as he noticed them for the first time. He held his position as they moved around them, blasters pointed, not giving any orders. One of them glanced sideways, obviously looking for or waiting for direction on what to do with the prisoners. It wasn't outside the realm of possibility that they'd be shot where they were, but FO-1284 doubted they'd do that. More likely they'd be interrogated and shot later- somewhere convenient, where they would be easy to dispose of.

Threnalli shifted his gaze back to her and regarded her with his big, dark alien eyes. It felt like the first time anyone had ever looked at her and not seen someone whose bloodline was bastardized. She felt seen and valued – now, finally, here at the end. She wondered what the galaxy was like out there, where people like him existed without being given hell for being what they were born as. It felt like he was reading her mind when he said, "Then leave them, and live."

Like she had a choice. Like she'd ever had a choice.


	105. Dren

[Dren]

* * *

Lt. Dren stopped in the doorway, blood pounding in his ears and adrenaline still running hot in his veins from the last mad dash across the cluttered landscape. But he wasn't undisciplined and nor were his troops, who lined up on either side of him. Their weapons were at the ready, but despite the erratic assaults they'd withstood, they waited for his order to fire.

He took a moment to assess what he was seeing. All their enemies, save one, were sitting on the floor, hands up and weapons down in what he was trained to see as a universal indication of surrender. The one guy who was standing turned slowly, raising his hands as he did, but making no motion to sit. Two of Dren's subordinates took aim. The man started to talk. He was in what Dren supposed were civilian clothes. Everyone else, save the aliens, were in First Order uniforms. Whoever this guy was, he obviously wasn't important.

"Shoot him," he said into his comm. They took him down. A few of those on the floor flinched, but none acted. It was a stun round. They could all see that. He scanned them more carefully, noting that none of the highly-ranked officers here had working code cylinders. The one closest to him didn't even have a rank on his uniform.

If he'd passed someone in the hallway without a code, he'd have assumed they forgot it or their's was defective. If the rest of their uniform was appropriate, then he would have marched on – not his business to question upper-level officers about their accoutrements. But in the middle of any conflict, the lack meant his head's-up display painted them as enemies.

The opposing stormtroopers had working transponders. They identified them as belonging to the _Finalizer_, Hux's ship, so that much tracked. The presence of two weird aliens and the guy in civilian clothes did _not_ track. Also, General Hux was not among them and there weren't enough stormtroopers here to match the numbers he'd seen earlier.

Then there was an individual costumed like Kylo Ren. Or maybe that _was_ Kylo Ren. Fear trickled down his back as he recognized the well-known black outfit on a tall, broad, male human. The face meant nothing to him, but the outfit was distinctive.

Ren's sentence to death and subsequent escape was well-known news. Dren sorely hoped this was an imposter. A glimpse of the lightsaber at the man's belt gave him a sinking feeling in his stomach to go with the cold sweat on his back. But … Ren wouldn't be sitting on the floor if he'd intended to kill all of them.

Dren stepped in slowly, past a dead-looking stormtrooper sprawled out on the floor. The armor transponder indicated he was alive though perhaps not conscious. Dren swiveled his blaster between them as his troops awaited his order. He gave a jerk of his head, which was enough for them to understand they were to leave the doorway and move through the hall, taking up positions on each prisoner.

He stared at the two furthest away – an alien crouched in front of a stormtrooper, doing something about her bleeding leg. Medical care. The alien was giving medical care to a stormtrooper? Dren sighed at how little sense this made. "Who's in command here?" he asked, turning to the rest to see who responded. They looked between each other. Enough glanced at the guy in civvies to tell him he'd shot the one in originally in charge.

"I am," said the one who looked like Kylo Ren.

Dren took his finger off the trigger lest he have some nervous spasm that caused him to fire and precipitate a bloodbath. His last orders had been to take prisoners, superseding the previous ones which were to kill everyone except General Hux. Also, he'd heard of Ren's extraordinary magical powers and unmatched combat prowess. He had no idea why someone like that was surrendering, but he had to have surrendered for the trial, as well.

Dren moved closer to him. "On your feet," he said nervously. "Just you," he corrected when everyone began to move. To the rest of his people, he barked, "Arrest them all! Binders. Alert the nearest detention block. Get some gurneys in here."

More troopers flooded into the hallway, pairing up on their detainees and getting the process started. Normally, he would have grabbed his prisoner by the elbow and shoved him out of the way so he could address him directly. Given who he was facing, he just motioned threateningly with the barrel of his rifle.

Ren rolled his eyes and went where directed. Dren demanded, "Where is General Hux?"

"Don't know." His tone of voice was bored.

"Who are you?"

"Kylo of Jakku. A nobody."

Dren hesitated. The female captain made exasperated noises behind him. He looked back at her briefly. Two other troopers were putting cuffs on her, which she was cooperating with. She had a lightsaber hanging from her belt, which they either hadn't noticed, hadn't recognized as a weapon, or hadn't gotten around to taking from her. "Make sure you get the lightsaber," he ordered them. He turned back to the man. "Kylo … Ren?"

"Formerly."

"Yes sir." He gulped. He shouldn't have addressed him as 'sir' and he was sure several other troopers near him had noticed his slip. But whatever. _They_ weren't trying to take Kylo Ren into custody, the man who had killed Supreme Leader Snoke himself, with the very lightsaber Dren was reaching for. Thankfully, Ren gave him no resistance. Another trooper came to his side with binders. Dren stepped back and gestured with his elbow, the other hand gingerly holding the lightsaber hilt. It had a button to activate it somewhere and he didn't want to accidentally turn it on and cause an incident.

Kylo sighed and offered his hands compliantly enough. Dren was starting to think he might survive this.


	106. Hux 25

[Hux]

* * *

The doors of the lift whisked shut behind the last of his entourage. Hux turned and reviewed what he had – Lt. Lady, the staff sergeant, the other sergeant, the corporal, and the sniper (it occurred to him to wonder why an internal security force that nearly always had short distance encounters would have a _sniper_ among their number, but decided this was not the time for curiosity). He also noted that merit seemed to have prevailed, with the higher-ranking individuals having survived. Hopefully that was a trend which would continue.

He directed the lift to the bridge, holding his breath as the transport's computer read his code cylinder for authorization to such a restricted area. He smirked when it went through and the lift began to move.

"It-?" the sergeant said in surprise before cutting herself off. The lieutenant turned her helmet to face the sergeant and held the pose – what passed for a glower.

Hux answered her anyway. Perhaps there was a role for curiosity. "Sidious expected to be inhabiting my body by now. Why would he limit his own authorization?"

"Could be a trap," offered the corporal.

Hux looked to him. He hadn't asked for the man's input. The question had been clearly rhetorical. Being around the Resistance must have rubbed off on him. And perhaps it had on Hux as well, because he answered instead of snapping at him about protocol. "We'll know soon enough. Follow my lead."

Star destroyers were big, even an imperial one like this. Although the lifts were fast, the forward hangar was a considerable distance from the bridge tower at the rear of the ship. It would take several minutes to get there. They were hardly started when he felt something jarring jolt through his body, enough to make him resettle his footing and glance around uneasily. His hand rose to his chest. It had been an electric sort of pulse.

Poe.

He had no idea where the thought came from, but his intuition was firm on it. He swallowed. Something had happened – to Poe? Involving Poe? There was a blankness where previously he hadn't realized it wasn't blank. The absence drew his attention – a sort of internal silence or loneliness that he'd felt all his life … until recently. Until the thing with Sidious.

The lieutenant was watching him closely. "Sir?"

He shook it off, hand going to his side in a fist. The ghosts must be bothering him. "It's nothing."

They sailed past the usual security checkpoints without challenge. It could have meant a variety of things: that the ship wasn't on alert, that Sidious had expanded Hux's authorizations so that not even security was allowed to question him, or that whoever was on the bridge knew he was coming and had cleared the way – the trap the corporal was warning about.

Hux pulled his blaster and checked the charge. He hadn't fired it during this whole adventure, so it was primed and ready to go. He tightened and loosened his grip, trying to remember the differences in bridge layout between the _Allegiance_ (an imperial-era ship) and the more familiar _Finalizer_ (_Resurgent_-class).

The doors opened. Hux strode in like he owned the place – chest out, head back, spine straight. As such, the guards on either side of the door ignored him for a few crucial seconds. They took note of the troopers who filed out behind him – they weren't supposed to be here. They would realize soon that Hux wasn't supposed to be here either.

But not soon enough. General Pryde was standing directly ahead, next to the communications console. He turned from a screen that was showing the devastation of the hangar bay and had just enough time to register surprise, uncertainty, and then dread. Hux raised his blaster pistol from his side and shot him square in the chest. That's what he got for not calling off the assault as soon as Sidious was gone.

They were close enough for the shot to knock Pryde back against the console before he collapsed to the floor with a wheeze. The communications officer sitting at her station flinched, eyes huge. Hux's blaster was pointed at her, now, but she didn't move beyond that. She was armed, just like everyone else. Behind Hux, there was a scuffle of noise – boots on the floor, weapons moving, a few alarmed words through vocoders. But then silence and he hadn't been shot in the back during it. He turned.

"Emperor Palpatine is no more," Hux said levelly. "Anyone else who acts on his behalf will be summarily executed for treason. Am I understood?"

Silence met him. The two guards at the door had their weapons trained on the troopers who had come with him, who likewise were covering them and the nearest of the bridge crew. No one was moving, aside from the slight creak of leather in the guard's clenched gloves and the wet sound of swallowing from the communications officer behind him. Pryde let out a gruesome death rattle.

Hux looked around slowly. The second in command was not visible from here. As such, no one had the authority to accept his control of the situation. They weren't arguing, but their orders forbade acquiescence. Carefully, he turned and walked slowly, unhurried, toward the operations room to the aft. He went alone, with his troops staying where they were, probably out of concern they would precipitate gunfire if they moved.

Valid enough.

The door opened before he reached it, with a woman older than Pryde making it a step out of the room before stopping. She blinked at him, then bowed her head. "My lord."

Hux kept his blaster trained on her. "I am not Palpatine. I am not Sidious. I am General Armitage Hux of the First Order. Be very careful with your next words – are you in service to the Empire, or the Order?"

She raised her head, eyes widening slightly. She glanced to the side, gaze catching on Pryde's crumpled form and the knot of stormtroopers near the lift door engaged in a stand-off with the bridge guards. She looked back to Hux, her look becoming intent and incisive, reading the small points of his expression – things that made him himself and not some Sith presence. She swallowed. "As I pledged more than a quarter century ago, I follow the Order and whoever lawfully leads it."

He considered that word, 'lawfully,' and the likely argument that Palpatine was the legitimate ruler rather than any regent who stood in his absence. So that was how these defectors salved their conscience. "That would be me. The ghost has been banished back to the nether from which he came."

"Sir," she said. Gratifyingly, it was without much in the way of hesitation.

That was what he needed – an acknowledgement of his authority. The guards at the door lowered their weapons. His did not, but they spread out a bit to better cover the area.

Hux told her, "I need the log of all orders General Pryde issued since he entered the Hosnian system. Along with any that were delivered by that Sith ghost, whatever it is you were calling him."

"The Emperor Palpatine, sir."

"Fine. Him." He holstered his blaster and went back to the communications console. She accurately took this as dismissal and hurried to get him what he'd asked for. He looked over people's shoulders and reviewed the various readouts, stepping over Pryde's corpse along the way. It looked like things were wrapped up in the hangar. He saw no hostilities on the screens, but he didn't see his people, either.

He wanted to stay and look, but he passed on to the command walkway, making a turn down it and back. He made note of where the ship was, its heading and bearing, and general status, trying to pull his thoughts together and not linger on the nightmare of attempted possession he'd gone through just minutes ago.

"Lieutenant?" he addressed the one in charge of the crew pit. "Ship status?"

"Operational, sir. We're still repairing damage from the battle with the _Finalizer,_ but all systems are nominally functional."

"What happened to the _Finalizer_?"

"She was dispatched to the _Supremacy_ for repairs."

"Under her own power?"

"No, sir."

"Hm." The _Supremacy_ was so large that they had elected to send the shipyard to it rather than it to a shipyard. Sending the _Finalizer_ there meant she was deemed salvageable, even if crippled. They hadn't considered her a wreck, at least. He looked around, seeing no others in their fleet. The _Allegiance_ was alone for now.

He stopped at the station for ship security, which had a blaster rifle pointed at the operator's head from one of Hux's troopers. Hux might have holstered his blaster, but his team remained on active alert, weapons pointed and fingers on triggers.

Hux didn't belay it. He addressed the sweating security officer. "I was accompanied by several members of the Resistance. I left them at the hangar bay with orders to surrender themselves. What happened to them?"

The man must have already been monitoring that through his earpiece, as he had an answer immediately. "They're being taken to detention center A43. Should I have them diverted, sir?"

"No. Send note to the supervisor of A43 to treat them well – medical care if they need it, food when scheduled, etc. Inform me if there is a disturbance." He wasn't sure how much he could believe Ren about not being able to use the Force. So he added dryly, "Or an escape. Don't kill any of them."

"Yes sir."

By then, Pryde's second had the report for him. Hux retired to the nearest meeting room so he could get up to speed with what had happened in his absence, particularly what Sidious had communicated and done. He asked her to send in all command-level transmission logs for the last several days. He'd skim the ones that looked important.

As he went into the room, he told his lieutenant, "Two in the room with me, two outside, one on relief." Which also served to communicate that he didn't feel safe yet. He paused at the threshold, looking back to the second in command of the _Allegiance_. "And have someone dispose of General Pryde. Be respectful."

He had the creeping feeling that the man's ghost was lingering around, having been killed almost as abruptly as those on Hosnian Prime. He wondered if it were psychically beneficial to warn people before you killed them, like a villain in a holo. Probably not physically beneficial, he supposed.

He took a seat in the meeting room and tried to ignore the feeling of being haunted. He had no idea how to appease a few billion dead without at the very least getting hold of the resources of the First Order. Which meant taking command, which meant figuring out what Pryde and Sidious had done so Hux could pick up where they left off.

He rubbed his forehead. It ached suddenly, when it hadn't been hurting before. He wished Poe was here. He hoped he was alright. Surely the security officer would have mentioned if they'd killed anyone, wouldn't they have? Well … probably not. Maybe he should go out and ask? Hux clenched the fist not holding the datapad. This was useless. He needed to focus. Poe was or was not dead – he probably wasn't – and Hux checking on him would accomplish nothing except to waste valuable time when he needed to get control of the fleet.

He started on the first lines of the report. Minutes later, he was disturbed by the lieutenant murmuring in her helmet. He had the bizarre feeling she was trying to talk to him (or someone was). "Lieutenant? Switch with someone outside. Also, requisition a correct rank pauldron for yourself."

"Yes sir." She stepped out and was replaced by the staff sergeant. He rubbed at his eyes and stopped, weary of everything. He wanted to go see Poe. He wanted to go back to being held by him. Or just standing, with Poe hugging him, like they had behind the shuttle when Poe had told him he was related to Palpatine. He leaned back in the seat and remembered that. It was vivid. He sighed in relief, grateful for the reprieve no matter where it was coming from. He could almost feel – but he must be imagining it – a sort of 'I'm here' from Poe.

Hux chuckled. He must be going insane. Or maybe Poe was dead and haunting him just like the rest. He'd heard Poe's voice in his head earlier, but surely that had to do with Sidious and whatever Rey and Ren had been doing. Yet the impression of Poe's presence lingered – 'It's okay. I know. It's alright now.'

Hux shut his eyes and indulged for a moment more. This was what had saved him when Sidious was about to end him. It had to be good. Maybe it was even real. How was one to tell with the Force, anyway? He breathed out, refocused, and reluctantly pulled away from the sensation. He had a government to run. He'd deal with the Resistance members later. For now, he applied himself to the reports.


	107. Poe 14

[Poe]

* * *

"Get his arm," someone said. It was a mechanical voice, like from one of those stormtrooper helmets. "Put it over here or he'll just roll over again."

Poe realized he was being manhandled, too. He pulled his arm out of the grip of the stormtrooper and blearily pushed himself up with it. He was on the floor. They were, he assumed, trying to arrange him into a recovery position. That was nice of them, but more likely standard procedure than care.

"He's awake!" the one behind him said, sounding startled by this. Poe had always recovered fast from stun bolts. No idea why.

"Yeah. Good." The other was less impressed. He stood and both of them left the cell. The door snapped shut behind them. It was transparent, with regularly spaced holes in it too small for even a child's hand. Airholes, Poe assumed. The room was about two meters wide and three long, with part of that length taken up by a bunk at the end. He'd rolled over on his back to see that much and was now holding his head. It ached. He assumed he'd hit his head when he'd collapsed.

Outside, one of the troopers said, "Wait. New orders. Take him to medbay."

Poe rolled his head to the side to see them. "'M fine." What ran through his head was the stormtrooper in the shuttle who hadn't been able to stand, nervously repeating she was fine. "Really. 'M fine. I've had worse."

"Him particularly?" asked the other trooper, hand rising to the door controls but not pressing anything.

"No, just the wounded." That one was still holding one hand to the side of his helmet like he was holding an earpiece or pointing to his ear. Poe assumed it was some sign language shorthand for 'I'm getting a transmission'.

Other prisoners were herded past the pair – Rey and Kylo. They seemed fine. The trooper's hand dropped away from the door controls. "Leave him, then." They moved away, heading down the corridor to Poe's right.

With them gone, he rubbed his forehead and tried to reach out mentally and find Hux. Nothing seemed to happen other than he thought about what he was trying to do, with nothing resulting of it. It was like if he'd decided to think about flying or levitating rocks – not having the Force meant just thinking about things didn't accomplish them.

He sighed and tried again, doing a little different. Poe knew how to meditate well enough. It was a standard part of worship in the Church of the Force, which he'd been raised in on Yavin IV. No one in their group had been Force sensitive, so the lessons had been long on preaching and short on application – but meditation was easy to apply.

He pulled himself up to sit with his back against the wall of the cell so he could adopt a position that allowed him to open his diaphragm and breathe easier. Proper regulation of oxygen had a lot to do with it, he was sure. As did managing tension. He relaxed. He didn't so much empty his mind as give himself permission to let everything go.

Once he felt he'd settled into as much zen has he was likely to get, he started trying to visualize the bond between himself and Armitage Hux. It was there – he was sure of that; he'd felt it loud and clear while augmented by Rey and Kylo, while Hux had been fighting off Darth Sidious. (It was still amazing that he'd played a role in defeating a version of the galaxy's most evil Sith.)

He gently pulled his attention away from that and redirected it to the bond. The link was still there. He just needed to find it. He thought of Hux and how he knew him. He was a weird guy, repressed, a complete virgin, a dangerous and serious man who had grabbed for the support Poe had offered like a drowning person after a lifebuoy. But he also had some gentleness in there. Some compassion. He might not express it much, but his very consideration for Poe's feelings hinted at it.

Poe brought the man to mind and reached out to him. 'Hux? Hugs? Can you hear me?' He thought it in his head. He imagined talking to him, trying to get his attention, using that pattern of three taps like he had on the sleeping mat. He had a sense of Hux being there (or maybe he was convincing himself he did). It grew slowly until he was _sure_ he was sensing something.

Hux was in a room. Alone. Or at least he wasn't talking or listening. He was tired, as one would be after a morning like his and the general letdown after so much adrenaline. Yet Hux hadn't really thought about it. He was a really stubborn man. Poe smiled about that.

That moment of happiness seemed to trigger something in Hux. Or maybe it was something else, but Hux seemed aware of him. He still wasn't 'looking' Poe's way, but he was thinking about him in turn, strengthening the tenuous connection. He wanted a hug. Poe gave him one, imagining it as intensely as he could. Hux sighed, grateful.

'I'm here,' Poe thought to him and could sense something like a nod from Hux, an acknowledgment. Hux chuckled quietly, wry, bitter humor at his own possible insanity and troubled imagination. The phantasms of dealing with Sidious lurked in his mind, but Hux refused to recognize them anymore than he did his tiredness. Poe added, 'It's okay. I know. It's alright now.'

Hux let him in. For a long, peaceful moment, they were together. Then Hux shut him out and moved on, throwing Poe off as easily as a nerf tossing an untrained rider. 'No!' Poe struggled with the connection, but his very agitation made it whirl out of reach even faster. His head was throbbing and there was noise down the corridor as Finn, Rose, and stormtrooper voices competed for his attention.

Poe made a frustrated growl even though, on the net, it had been positive. Having no idea of what he was doing and little cooperation from Hux, he'd still reached him. That was good. He scooted over to the front of his cell to see if he could make out what was going on down the corridor where his friends were arguing.


	108. Rose 9

[Rose]

* * *

"You're coming with us." The stormtroopers had no more put her and Finn in cells opposite one another then they changed their mind and re-opened Finn's cell. She would have rather they came for _her_.

"I can barely walk," Finn told the trooper. He'd just sat down on the bench at the rear of the cell and was now laboriously rising from it. Rose came to the front of her cell to watch, feeling powerless behind the barrier.

"You walked in here. You'll walk out," said the stormtrooper, testily.

But that wasn't really true. Chewbacca had helped him the whole way here, something the troopers had allowed only after divesting the Wookiee of his bandolier. "Get him a gurney," Rose said. The other trooper, who had been silent so far, turned to her but didn't say anything.

Finn limped badly, using the wall for support. She couldn't tell if his condition had worsened or he was playing it up. "No, really," Finn said with emphasis, "I can barely walk. I won't make it."

The trooper who had been doing the talking so far pulled out his blaster. "You'll make it or else."

"Or else _what_?" Rose said in alarm. "What are you going to do? Shoot him? How is that going to help you?"

The stormtrooper looked between her and him. The other trooper was standing at the door to Finn's cell, saying nothing and extending a helping hand toward Finn. The one with his blaster out said quietly, "It might motivate him?"

"You can't solve all your problems with violence!"

Her umbrage made him double-down on being an idiot. "Yes, I can." The trooper turned his blaster toward her, but she suspected the transparent material of the door would disperse a stun bolt and make a lethal shot difficult unless he shoved the barrel into one of the holes. "And you're one of them!" Behind him, Finn transferred from the wall to the other trooper, putting his arm over the guy's shoulders. He shot her a worried look and seemed to measure the distance from himself to the trooper threatening her.

She didn't want him to fight two stormtroopers for her. She didn't need him to, either. She wasn't Rose the Resistance mechanic right now. In this uniform, she was an officer of the First Order, albeit she wasn't sure what rank these stock uniforms translated as. "You have gurneys, _soldier_," she said in the commanding tone she'd heard Hux and Lady use. "You already put the stormtroopers on them. Now put _him_ on one!"

The blaster muzzle dropped in reaction to her tone. The trooper looked over at his companion, who said, "I'm not carrying this guy. He's heavy."

The formerly belligerent trooper holstered his weapon. "But we already sent the only two gurneys with those other two," he complained, though whether this was directed to Rose or his co-worker was unclear.

So that was the problem. Well, one of them. The other was that he was a jerk. "There are other security stations," Rose said. "Call one. Or the medbay. There are more than two gurneys on this ship."

The helpful trooper said, "We could have a med-tech bring one down and do an assessment. They might be able to treat him here. Then we don't have paperwork for taking him somewhere."

The angry one finally gave in, stomping past Finn and the other guy to the security station at the end. The one helping Finn told him, "Keep moving. We'll stow you at the station until we have a proper carrier."

"Thanks, man," Finn said quietly. "I appreciate it."

"Finn," Rose said as she leaned on the barrier.

"I'll be okay," he reassured her and she had to trust his assessment. He was led away. It wasn't far. He and Rose had been the first into cells. Most of their gang was further down the corridor. The only exceptions were the two stormtroopers who'd been taken away in the beginning. That had left only one living trooper with them, who'd been stuffed into a cell right along with them.

It felt wrong to her – like only Resistance members should be locked up, but they'd locked up the stormtrooper with them just the same. From the guard's point of view, she supposed they all looked like other First Order members. Well, all of them except Poe, whom they'd basically shot on sight. The last of the troopers filed out, leaving them in their cells.

After a while, Rose caught a glimpse of a bald woman with a gurney, who passed from one side of her limited view of the security station to the other. Long minutes passed, much longer than required for Finn to get on and be taken away, but finally she saw him pass headed the other way. He was covered with a sheet that had his clothes piled on top. His shoulders and head were bare, but he wasn't looking her way. He seemed relaxed enough. The two guards who followed him didn't act alert or tense, either. She was getting better at reading their body language.

A few minutes later, a lieutenant presented herself in front of Rose's cell. "Name?"

She hesitated. There had been a discussion of cover stories days ago (it felt like longer) when they'd made their pit stop on Bespin to pick up their First Order disguises. Finn had said there wasn't a point to getting elaborate – any challenge would reveal the ruse. Well, she was being challenged now. She swallowed and went with the truth. "Rose Tico."

The lieutenant entered the information. "Rank?" But no more had she spoken than her brow furrowed as she looked at something on her datapad.

"Yeah," Rose said sourly. "It's true."

The woman looked between the pad and Rose. "This says you were executed on the _Supremacy_."

"Oh. It does?" She'd thought it would say she was part of the Resistance. But the First Order had been in the middle of a battle and the ship had been split in two moments later. The idea that the paperwork and related research on her identity might be skimpy … made a lot of sense. "What were the charges?"

"Sabotage and impersonating an officer." She looked Rose up and down, eyes scanning the uniform. "Same now?"

"What?"

"Is that the same thing you were doing today?"

Rose laughed, because apparently being part of the Resistance was not in the file. Who did they think she was, then? Did First Order officers impersonate each other and do crime? The idea was laughable, but come to think of it, they wouldn't have needed internal security forces if they _didn't_. Also, the lieutenant had spent all of ten seconds reading so far, so maybe there was more further down the file. In any case, Rose said, "Yeah, sure. Put that down."

The lieutenant made another entry. "A lot of dead people coming back these days."

"Apparently so. Did you have General Hux down as dead?"

The lieutenant shrugged. "I can't tell you that. You're a prisoner." But her tone was conversational enough. "Are you injured?"

"No." It was mostly true. She had sprained her ankle jumping out of the shuttle and still had a collection of half-healed bug bites, but she didn't have any reason to ask for medical attention. She spared a thought for whether she could concoct something that would get her in proximity to Finn, but she didn't know the system here. Would she end up in a different area altogether? "What happened to the man who was in the cell across from me?"

The officer turned to look at Finn's empty cell, then turned back. "I'm not supposed to tell you that, either. What … rank … were you? Are you?"

"Lieutenant commander." It wasn't entirely a lie. Technically. Although 'Commander' wasn't a rank in the First Order (this, too, had come up on Bespin), a lieutenant commander was the closest analog. Rose just didn't mention that part.

After a pause, the lieutenant said, "He went to medbay. The tech said something about reconstruction. That's all I know."

"They're actually going to give him medical treatment?"

"I suppose so. Those _were_ the orders."

Rose looked off to the side, her gaze going distant in the direction she imagined the bridge to be. Hux wasn't just dumping them. He wouldn't have issued a blanket order like that unless he intended to honor whatever tenuous alliance they had. She remembered how certain Poe had been that they could trust him.

That they were still locked up didn't mean anything. Even as impatient as she was, she knew that a shake-up in leadership like the Order had just had would take some time to process. She suspected that as long as they were locked up and not causing problems, Hux wouldn't bother with them until he had his ducks in a row, metaphorically. They were safe here, just as he'd said.

The lieutenant continued, "Do you need any accommodations?"

"Accommodations?"

"Yes. Anything you need?"

"Freedom?"

The lieutenant blinked at her and seemed to lose some of the rapport they'd had. "That's not an acceptable need."

Rose frowned. She would have liked to have argued that, but it was pointless. No one in the First Order was free. She wasn't sure what else she could ask for. Here she was in a prison cell. She assumed there were hygiene facilities accessible in the walls, but there was no privacy. "Um … I'm hungry. I'd like lunch."

"It will be served in an hour." With that, the lieutenant moved to the next cell down, where C'ai was, and began a similar series of questions. Their Resistance affiliation would come out soon, even as she heard C'ai claiming to be an independent pilot contracted by General Hux to help with evacuation. He referred all questions about his employment to Hux, which Rose thought was a good tact. He also didn't correct the lieutenant from putting him down as a Mon Calamari, which he looked nothing like. He humored her question about humidity settings before she turned to the next occupant.


	109. Rey 12

[Rey]

* * *

"Psst. Hey." It was Poe. She'd known this was coming. It was surprising Poe had taken this long to ask, but they'd had to wait for the First Order lieutenant to finish questioning everyone for her intake assessment. Now they had something in the way of privacy.

Rey sighed and moved to the front of her cell. Across from her, Kylo turned his head to watch her from his own cell, but it was Poe she addressed. He was in the cell next to hers. "Yes?"

"Tell me about Force bonds."

"I don't know much."

"But … you have one. You said you did."

"Yes."

"What does it do? How do you feel it? What does it mean?"

"It's a link between your souls so the Force flows equally between you."

"But Hux and I don't … Neither of us are really able to use the Force. As far as I know. I know the Force flows through us anyway, but I think we're blind to it. Most of the time."

"I'm sorry, but I don't know how it will work between two people who aren't Force users."

"How does it work for you, then?"

She sighed again, then looked to the cell across from her and met Kylo's eyes. "The Jedi texts said there was no connection deeper or truer. If one dies, the bondmate usually does as well. Of heartbreak. You can be apart – you can fight and argue and disagree – but you'll never be truly content unless you're with the one you're bonded to. He is your beacon, your lodestone." Kylo was smiling at her dreamily. She smiled in return.

Poe said, "So I'm … soul-bonded to the guy in charge of the First Order. Huh. This is going to be very strange … politically."

"I warned you."

"Yeah, but I thought we were all going to die if I didn't. Come to think of it, we all would have died if I _hadn't_."

"True."

There was a long silence before Poe said, "You know, I don't think I would have made a different decision. I mean, aside from the 'everyone dying, galaxy falls to darkness' part. It would have been nice to understand it a little better, but I know people don't always get that chance. Sometimes you have to take the shot when you can because you're never going to get a better one. It's one thing to be impulsive, but it's another to just not hesitate." Another long silence, then, "I like him."

"That's good. Because I don't know how to undo it. The implication of the text is it can't be undone. Snoke's holocrons imply the only way out is the intentional killing of one by the other – 'the cruelest stroke', as he called it."

"Eh, well, that's not gonna happen," he said dismissively. "But this whole thing is going to have some morbid implications when we're really old and one of us is going to die first of old age."

"You'll die together," she said with certainty. She gave Kylo a soft look. He blew her a loving kiss. The idea of growing old together with him … she liked it.

"I'd rather not think about that," Poe said. "How about this - do I get any special cool powers? Just a few minutes ago I was trying to talk to him in my mind and it almost seemed like I could. Maybe it would have worked if he'd understood what I was doing. He kind of dismissed it. But I know he was sensing it. And I was sensing him."

"What did you sense?"

"He's in a room alone somewhere doing something boring. He's tired. He's safe, basically. He's lonely and hurting but he won't admit it. He wanted me there. _I_ wanted to be there. It was really … strong – that pull."

"There is a tension when you're not with one another."

"Is that why Kylo came back?"

"Hm," she said softly, declining to answer that. Kylo had followed her into death itself, but she didn't think it was due to the bond anymore than her decision to go to him on the _Supremacy_ had been. It was, instead, a choice he'd made. She told him, "The Force connects your souls and each provides the other with something they need."

"Like … what? That's kind of vague. Do you mean company?"

Kylo spoke instead. From Poe's angle, he probably couldn't see Kylo's head, but only his body from the waist down, as Kylo was reclining on the bench. Still, he could hear him. "I needed to understand why she could love me. How she could trust me. I had to know the kind of person she was, her loyalty and her steadiness. So it showed me her past."

Her lips parted in surprise. She hadn't known that. Or rather, she hadn't thought about why he needed to see her past. She just knew that he did, and that it seemed to help him and make him even more determined to be with her. But now it made sense. Rey said, "And I needed to know what to do with this thing inside me, this power that came from nowhere and makes me feel … like anything is possible. So it gave me Kylo's understanding of the Force and how to use all his abilities in it."

"Huh," Poe said. "What would it give two people who can't use the Force?"

"I don't know," Rey said. "It's more about what each of you need. It sounds like you're already feeling that – that he needs something from you. Think about it. You probably know him better than anyone in the galaxy right now. You know things about him he doesn't realize himself, because he's too close to see them. You know who he really is, inside." She was looking at Kylo, who gave her a slow blink and another blown kiss.

"Okay," Poe said, blowing out air. "I'll go meditate some more."


	110. Hux 26

[Hux]

* * *

"Edrison Peavey. You're alive," Hux said. "Captain," he added, in case there was any uncertainty about his status in good standing.

"General." Peavey walked to the front of his cell. "They're … He's looking for you," he said in an urgent whisper.

"He's dead."

"Yes." That was no surprise. Peavey nodded at him like it didn't matter. "But he's still looking for you."

"He's gone," Hux said. "He's not an issue." He pressed the button, opening the door.

Peavey was a bit scruffy and drawn – no hygiene products had been made available to the survivors of the _Finalizer_, nor had they had full rations. They were still in the uniforms they'd been wearing when they escaped the _Finalizer_, and although Hux was as well, his situation was of necessity. That of the prisoners was of malice. "He told me I was next," Peavey said. "He kept telling me that – I would be next. You don't know what he was like."

The captain seemed rattled, eyes wide. Hux smiled tightly. He'd grown up under a man with a matching personality to Sidious. He knew what he was like better than Peavey did. But Peavey wouldn't understand that. (Or maybe he would, since he'd spent a few days dealing with him and was clearly traumatized by it. Maybe Peavey would finally understand that Hux's upbringing was not the advantage he'd imagined.)

"Well," Hux said, "now you don't have to worry about that." He stepped back so Peavey could exit. Hux looked down the line of cells before turning back to Peavey. "Get yourself a meal and cleaned up. Is there any reason why you can't be on the bridge in two hours?"

"No sir. I can do my duty. What about General Pryde?"

"He's dead, too."

"Oh …" Peavey faltered. "How?"

"I shot him for treason. And I didn't like him. But the primary offense was that he continued to mobilize troops against me after Palpatine was dealt with. For that, I killed him."

"Who's in command of the ship?"

"You're about to be. In two hours. I'll meet you there and debrief you. I don't trust anyone here – not the way I trust you." Which wasn't saying as much as Hux wished it did, but it would be poor tactics to admit it.

"Yes sir!" Some life and cheerfulness came into the captain as he regained his bearings and understanding of the situation.

Hux gave the line of cells another look. Everyone here had some connection to him close enough Sidious had thought it worthwhile to keep them around. Those rescued who had not known him had been released and integrated into the crews of the other five ships with the _Allegiance_. None of those ships were here at the moment – Sidious had jumped in with only one vessel – but Hux had been in contact with them. The people he knew – they were all here. The ones who were still alive, that is. "I have others to see to. Check in with security on your way out to make sure your privileges have been restored."

"Yes sir." Peavey made it several steps away before turning. "And sir … thank you."


	111. Lady 7

[Lady]

* * *

"I don't want to be alive," DL-1364 told her in a whisper Lady could barely hear, even with the audio enhancement of her helmet. The trooper was sitting on the bench in her detention cell, staring at the floor vacantly. "I shouldn't have survived. None of us should have. We're meant to die."

Next to Lady, the Old Man scoffed. "She needs reconditioning down to a blank slate."

"We've already sent her to reconditioning twice after the _Supremacy_," Lady said, "and it didn't help."

"Twice is nothing," he said. "Run her through it six or seven times, maybe even ten. Back to back until she doesn't even know her own name."

"She's already given up her name."

"But she still knows it."

"I agree," DL-1364 said, a little louder, still not looking up. "Let it all be gone. Let _me_ be gone."

"See?" the Old Man said. "She'll get a fresh start and-"

"No." Lady cut him off. "No more advice from you." H-482 pulled his head back like he'd bitten into a sourfruit. She had no doubt of the matching expression going on under his helmet. He was silent. "As DL-1364's direct commander, you have input in what happens with her. Input has been given. Now leave." He pivoted and marched away like a proper soldier.

She entered the cell to go to a knee before the other woman. Lady lifted off her own helmet. In the cells across from them, two Resistance members watched – the Wookiee and Kaydel. Both were quiet. "I don't know what to do for you," Lady said soberly. "My job is to lead people. But you can't follow right now."

"I'm defective."

"No," Lady said. "You are damaged. You are not defective. You did well today. You held the door. You moved when I said move. I know you are capable. You are well-trained. You are an asset and are a good part of my team even now. I heard when you consoled FO-1282 about Ten-ten."

"I have to be so empty to do this job. I would rather be empty." A tear streaked her cheek, but DL-1364 didn't seem to notice it.

"You have too much inside you," Lady said. "But the answer is not to take some of it out. The answer is for you to grow so you can hold more." She waited, watching as DL-1364 processed that. Lady didn't hurry her. She didn't think that would do any good. Frankly, she didn't know what would do good here.

Finally, DL-1364 let out a shaky breath. "We didn't lose everyone this time. We only lost TN-1017 and DL-8192. And FN-9021 and FN-9048, who were with Finn." She swallowed and sniffed. "And then FN-9071 and FN-9124, who we lost before we ever left the _Finalizer_. And all of FO-1282's squad. Every one of them. Dead. Just like …"

Lady's eyes were wet now. No wonder DL-1364 had reached out to FO-1282. They were both solitary survivors of their units. "We aren't meant to die. We're meant to fight. We will fight on in their memory."

"Are FN-9028 and FO-1282 going to …?"

"They were both taken to medbay for an assessment. I'll hear soon."

"Well … if you won't send me to reconditioning, then at least I can remember them when they're gone."

"They aren't gone," Lady said with more insistence to her voice than she thought was needed. But there it was anyway. DL-1364 was getting to her, like this mental condition of hers was contagious. She stood. "Come with me."

* * *

After being discharged from detention, DL-1364 shadowed her to the ship's central medbay. Lady presented herself to the intake droid, which summoned the chief medical officer. That the matter of FN-9028 and FO-1282 had been escalated to a human told her it wasn't good news. That was … irritating. She'd wanted to show DL-1364 that her pessimism was wrong and everything was going to turn out fine.

Lady wore a stony face when the doctor arrived. Her helmet was still tucked under her arm. As an officer, she could show her face whenever she chose. "I'm Lt. Lady. Here for reports on FN-9028 and FO-1282."

"Yes, there were a number of injured in the … battle. Let me find the right files." He accessed a terminal, scanning the records only briefly, enough to make sure of which she was after. "Charges have been lifted, I see," he mused, then moved on to the medical report. "FN-9028 has superficial injuries and can return to light duty tomorrow. The armor took most of it. He will need to be reissued gear. FO-1282 met criteria for termination."

"'Met'?" Past tense? "She's already-"

"No, no." The doctor shook his head. "That would be improper, unless she expired on her own. You're her superior officer?"

"I'm the first officer in the chain of command. Yes."

"We need your sign-off." He pivoted the screen and pointed to where her thumbprint was required to authorize the termination. She stared at it. It changed from sharp to fuzzy in her vision, almost double-imaged as she stared. She was aware of the process, but she'd never had to sign such a thing before. It seemed so … routine. She'd known FO-1282 for all of three days and here she was being asked to sign termination papers for her. FO-1282 had not failed her in any way during that time. The doctor asked, "Lieutenant?"

She blinked back into focus. "Tell me … tell me about her injuries. What … what about them meets the criteria?"

"Her knee is damaged extensively enough that it is unlikely she will regain full mobility. The soft tissue damage could be healed, but bacta doesn't always reconstruct joints properly. In fact, it rarely does."

'Unlikely'. 'Full' mobility. She remembered the Old Man talking about how he shouldn't have killed Ten-ten, how Ten-ten could have been useful, even with only one arm. They were standard after-action regrets, but FO-1282 hadn't actually lost a limb. He wasn't saying she wouldn't be able to stand or walk. "How likely is it that she will have _some_ mobility?"

"Well," he shrugged, "'very', I suppose, but she won't be suitable as a trooper."

"She is a personal guard of General Hux." Lady wasn't really sure where those words came from, but they left her mouth all the same. They were almost true, even. At least she could make a good argument they were true.

He shook his head dismissively. "She may be able to walk, but she will always be disabled. She's only a private. Get another one."

"She was personally selected." Okay, so that wasn't true at all.

He didn't look like he believed her, either. "She's not even human." Lady couldn't think of another lie. He pursed his lips and looked at the form she had so far declined to authorize. "I can sign this if you can't. It's not necess-"

"No." Her voice was hard.

He paraphrased the regulations to her: "A commanding officer's authorization is not required, if in the medical officer's opinion the injuries are inconsistent with the performance of duties."

It only served to remind her of the full regulation: "Which only applies if the commanding officer is unavailable. I _am_ available."

"Then sign the form."

"I request an exemption," she parried.

"Against medical advice? That requires flag officer review."

"I answer to General Hux himself. There _will_ be a review. _I request an exemption_. I will take it directly to him. In the meantime, I authorize medical care consistent with restoration to service."

"That is _against medical advice_," he said again, but he knew as well as she did that all he could do, technically, was inform her of it.

"So noted. Now, where is she? I'll see her while you prepare the request." And she had to hope he did not exaggerate the injuries.

He glared at her, but he looked more put-out about it than angry. That was good. If he was personally invested in getting his way, then FO-1282 could die in his medbay before Lady could do anything about it. The doctor turned to the droid that had been standing there motionless. He waved at it. "Take her back."

"Both of us," Lady said, looking at the droid and not the doctor.

The droid looked back and forth between doctor and lieutenant twice, obviously waiting for a countermand or agreement. None was given, either way, so it eventually followed the last order it had received. They were led back.

Major and Spots had beds next to one another. To her surprise, Finn was here as well. He was engaged in conversation with two troopers who appeared to be loosely guarding them. They eyed her shiny new red pauldron and waited a few beats, but she moved on to Major and Spots. It wasn't her job to reprimand them for being overly familiar and besides, it seemed possible they were all on the same side here. Including Finn. She'd need to look up what the doctor meant by 'charges had been lifted'.

The droid went to the door, paused for several seconds to observe the situation, then passed through it to another area, going about whatever default rounds it was assigned. Finn went back to talking to the guards he was with, explaining something about Pressy's Tumble and Jakku. He was personable. Whatever he was telling them, he had their complete attention.

Both Major and Spots were awake and had been stripped. They had blankets drawn over them for warmth, though the room was not chilly. Their wounds had been cleaned and wrapped, though she suspected only FN-9028's injuries had been treated with any healing compound. It was Spots who broke the quiet that descended. "What did they say?"

"I've requested an exemption."

Spots swallowed, knowing no one had to request an exemption unless the initial ruling was unfavorable. "Will it be granted?"

"I don't know."

"What will I do if it is?"

"I don't know."

Spots gave a twisted smile and cut her eyes in Finn's direction. "I could always join the Resistance."

Major jerked in his bed, agitated. "No! NO! Don't say that! We will have to report you! Don't- You can't-"

"Stow it, Major!" Lady snapped. He fell silent. Finn and the two guards did as well. She said, "That was not a statement of intent. Disregard it." She moved to Spots' side. "We'll find something." She waved awkwardly at Spots' face and ears, searching for an idea. "You have … features. They might be useful. Perhaps some kind of diplomacy. A war wound like a limp would sell well for that. Give you dignity."

"Really?"

"Yes. Personally defending the general? Someone like you? Teller would be proud to share your story. If the war is over like the general said and it has fallen to the First Order to put the galaxy back together, a face like yours is the sort we need to show, so they know we're just like them."

"Just … just like them?" Spots reached up and touched the tip of one of her ears.

Lady nodded. "Not all of them are humans. They need to know we aren't either."

"That's … that's a good thing?"

"That's a good thing. It's useful. _You_ are useful." Lady turned to DL-1364. "So are you. Stay here. With her. Comm me if they don't provide her treatment within the hour, or if they move to terminate her."

"Are they," Major asked, "allowed to do that? Did you …?"

"I did not authorize it," Lady said sternly. "They are not allowed to unless her condition is rapidly deteriorating or she's a threat to others." But what they are allowed to do and what might happen anyway were not always the same thing.

"I could stop them if they try it," Major said with sudden inspiration.

"You-" Lady shook her head. Major was such an idiot about following the rules. She'd heard more of his tattling than anyone else and she was even more thoroughly tired of it than the others. Had he now decided to act on it? "Don't try it. That's an order."

"I would not," he said staunchly. "But I can say I _could_ stop them, correct? It's not a statement of intent."

She paused with her mouth half-open at his sophistry, then shrugged one shoulder. "You're right. It's not. You can tellthem you _could_ stop them, if they tried anything."

"We'll stop them," Finn said from the other bed. She gazed at him, remembering Dameron's alarm and insistence in the shuttle when FO-1282's injuries had first been apparent. The Resistance did not kill their wounded, she had surmised. Or leave them behind. Finn had only been with them a few weeks, but he'd absorbed the lesson. For that matter, Lady had been in association with them only days and … some mental conditions were clearly contagious. She nodded.

As she went to leave, she paused at Finn's bed. He had no superior officer to ask after him, as far as she knew. Hux's last mention of the matter had been that she was higher-ranked than him. "Your injuries?"

"They're discussing doing reconstruction on the tendons in my leg. That's a normal option for officers." He paused, giving her an odd expression like he hoped she knew what he was trying to get at. "I told them they'd have to talk to General Hux for authorization. _He_'s my commanding officer."

She blinked and couldn't stop herself from a glance at the guards, although she didn't move her head to do it. Had she had her helmet on, that would have been discreet. As it was … well, she knew what Finn wanted her to go along with – pretending that he was in the First Order. "Yes," she answered when one of the guards tilted his head, starting to get suspicious about the looks and the long pause. "I need to get authorization from him as well for FO-1282's exemption. I'll mention it to him."

The guard relaxed again. The other one didn't seem to have noticed to start with, or maybe he just didn't care.

"I think it's the right thing to do," Finn said. "She's a good soldier."

"So are you."

Finn's expression shifted and a deeply touched smile played over his lips. He swallowed and nodded, taking a sniff and tightening his lips. He said nothing. Lady took her leave.


	112. Hux 27

[Hux]

* * *

The smart thing to do was obvious. He should eliminate the Force users immediately, while they were vulnerable. He could then safely use the remaining Resistance members as bait to lure out any others unwise enough to attempt a rescue. Once their allies had given them up, they would have a final use as public executions, showing the galaxy that not only would the First Order destroy any star systems that opposed it, but also any individuals. Even if he didn't manage to trap anyone else, the captives they had had illustrious records that would play well on a galactic stage. Especially Chewbacca and Poe Dameron.

Poe.

Poe was the reason he couldn't think of this as anything but a hypothetical. To carry it out would require actions on Hux's part, actions he found himself hesitating on, even if he knew they were smart, even if he knew they were his duty. He'd given his word to Poe and that _did_ matter, but not as much as the Order itself. Not as much as an opportunity to completely break the backs of his enemies.

Hux had been trained to do this. It had been drilled into him, replicated and enacted a hundred different ways over his life. It was what his father would have done. It was what Sidious _had_ done, insomuch as the situations were parallel. Hux knew his hesitation was coming from … weakness, from softer emotions he wasn't supposed to have, the ones he'd indulged on their last night (which was only the night before), thinking it would never happen again.

He'd been wrong.

He paced down the row of cells for detention block A43, observing the captive Resistance members. The supervisor followed him with a sycophantic air. Behind him came the two troopers whom Hux had yet to dismiss from his retinue – staff sergeant FL-2216 and the sharpshooter FN-9037.

There was an empty cell the supervisor explained had been Finn's. Tico watched him from where she was sitting on the bench on the opposite side. Next was Chewbacca and Threnalli. The Wookiee made a low sound. The next pair was Kaydel Connix and another empty cell. Then it was Poe.

Hux felt his heart lurch in his chest. He had considered leaving this review to someone less compromised by the situation, but he'd elected to do it himself. If he was going to give the order, then he had to be able to stomach the consequences. That wasn't his father's way of doing things, but Hux didn't _always_ do things his father's way.

Poe moved slowly from the bench in the rear of the cell to the transparent door. Hux had to tear his eyes away, turning the other direction, where someone he didn't recognize was laid out on the bench like they were unconscious.

"Who is this?"

The supervisor answered in a judgmental tone, "Lieutenant Helsted. She refused to serve her shift. Dereliction of duty. Also, she was drunk. Impaired."

She was dressed in officer's casual, implying she had refused to go to her shift at all, rather than balked at some specific command issued while she was serving. That correlated with her having the opportunity to become inebriated. Hux flashed to the dread he'd felt at times about his own shifts serving Snoke. "What did her work entail that she would risk execution to avoid it?"

The supervisor cleared his throat and straightened to his full height. "She was assigned to detention block E."

"The _Finalizer_ prisoners."

"Yes sir."

Hux's voice turned cold. "You're telling me that she would rather die than participate in the murder and torture of our own people at the hands of an undead Sith monstrosity?"

The man deflated somewhat, perhaps belatedly putting together who he was talking to and why opposing Palpatine might not be something Hux would condemn. "I … suppose so, sir."

Hux didn't argue with him, but he remembered Finn telling him Finn had always tried to do the right thing. While Hux was sure this security supervisor also thought he was 'doing the right thing', Hux's own opinion of right and wrong had been allowed to morph considerably following Snoke's death. These things could change. Sometimes they needed to. He pressed the button to open the door. "Get her out of here. Expunge all charges from her record."

"Yes sir." The supervisor went in her cell. He had to shake her shoulder to wake her. "It was just this morning. She might still be drunk."

Hux motioned one of his escort into the cell. "Help him. Take her to medbay for a detoxification routine. Tell her it's over." FN-9037 slung his big gun over his shoulder and helped get her up. Once awakened, she was able to walk and seemed only foggy-headed and hung over rather than still drunk. Medbay would help her either way. As she tottered down the walkway, the supervisor followed. FN-9037 returned to Hux's side.

Hux swallowed. Behind him, Poe was leaning on the door. He knew this – knew Poe had hooked his fingers through one of the holes, knew he was starting to smile gently at the back of Hux's head, knew he was waiting patiently. So patiently. Hux had a decision to make, but he had a feeling it was already made. He cleared his throat and turned to the pair of troopers. "Wait for me outside security."

There was a beat which translated to a hovering question mark over their heads, then the sergeant said, "Yes sir." They both turned and left. He watched them go. It was silly, but it felt like he could feel the rise and fall of Poe's chest as he breathed, feel the touch of his hands on the inside of his wrists. It must have been no more than the itch of knowing Poe was watching him. But it was unusually detailed if it was.

Finally, he turned. His stomach somersaulted and his heart lurched again. How was he going to deal with this? If he wasn't going to do what he was supposed to, then he should just leave and have the Resistance members released on Inra or wherever without having to watch it. That way he wouldn't have to see Poe leave. He'd be the one walking away instead. Right down this corridor. The one his feet were rooted to at the moment.

Poe was smiling at him. His fingers were hooked in a hole just as Hux had thought, with enough pressure on them that the sharp corners cut into his skin a little. Hux thought Poe shouldn't do that. He shouldn't do anything that hurt him. But how did he even know that was uncomfortable? It wasn't happening to _him_; it was happening to Poe. It reminded him of how Sidious had caused him to feel the discomfort of those others who had a link to him. Had that somehow transferred to Poe?

Poe tapped the transparent material three times with one hand. The fingers of the other, in the gap, wiggled at him. Hux sighed and moved near – that much he could do, while moving away felt impossible. He shot a careful look down the corridor, but the supervisor was looking at his screens, going through whatever processing was required for the release of Helsted. Hux touched Poe's fingers. The sensation made him pull in breath. It was more intense than it had a right to be. Yes, he definitely needed to have someone else oversee their release. He didn't think he had the strength to do it.

Poe tilted his head slightly, eyes hooded. "All you have to do is press the button, babe, and the door will open." Hux ignored his words and fondled Poe's fingers instead. He supposed he didn't _have_ to send them away. Maybe just … some of them. Finn wanted to stay, after all. Given all the chaos, it would be easy to write him in as a new recruit. Maybe Poe could stay for … some other reason.

Poe chuckled softly. His eyes were alight like they were having some fascinating conversation that he was totally engaged with. Hux sighed and leaned forward, letting his forehead press against the door between them. "I don't know how to tear myself away," Hux said in a low voice.

"How about you not?" Poe answered softly in turn.

"I shouldn't let you go. Not any of you. Tactically, it's unwise."

"So why are you going to do it, if it's such a bad idea?"

"I promised I would. I will. Today. Before anyone asks too many questions." He kept touching Poe's fingers.

"Hey?" Hux looked up at the questioning tone. Poe said, "No."

"You … don't want to go?"

"Let us go. But don't make us leave. We're envoys. Diplomats. Guests. Consultants. Whatever you guys call it. You made another promise – an even more important one. About the Hosnian system. You don't have to do that alone."

Hux swallowed. He'd been trying to keep that out of his mind all day and mostly succeeding. "Will Sidious return if I don't do it?"

"I don't know. Do you want to take that risk?"

"No."

"If you make us leave, then we won't be here to help you."

"Wouldn't it be more in your interest to wait for me to fail? Then you would have me out of the way and Sidious weakened." That, too, was the standard pattern of his father's life lessons to him.

"My interest is in you."

"Oh." He didn't know what else to say to that. It didn't fit with anything he'd been taught or had done.

Poe had teased one of Hux's fingers through the hole. He rubbed the tip of it. "I would love to kiss you." Hux pulled his hand back and inhaled sharply, leaning away from the wall. It wasn't dislike, but rather trying to get some distance from the overwhelming want and need that threatened to swamp him. It was like Poe knew that, because he continued, "I would love to hold you. I would love to make love to you. I would love to love you, if you would let me."

Hux laughed dryly, staring at Poe's hand where it had hooked into the hole again. "That's ridiculous." His voice was weak. It wavered. He knew Poe was telling the truth. He touched the man's fingers again. There was still a strange intensity to the feeling, like something flaring to life between them. It worried him, no matter how much he liked it.

He let his hand fall. "What happened earlier, between us, when Sidious was trying to take me over?" That, too, he'd been trying to block out.

"Well. Hng. You see …" Poe winced as he hemmed and hawed.

"What is it?" Hux asked quietly. As much as he saw Poe's expression, he could feel the man's worry and trepidation. He sensed it the same as he'd sensed the edge of the hole pressing into Poe's fingers earlier.

"So, we … uh … kind of … got married."

Hux waited a beat, not figuring that one out. Was it a figure of speech? "What?"

"A spiritual marriage. Through the Force." Hux just blinked at him, again wondering if it was a figure of speech. Surely, he couldn't mean it _literally_. Poe said quickly, "I wish I'd had a chance to ask, but it all happened so fast. You're kind of stuck with me now. I'm sorry. I can leave if you just don't-"

"No." Hux said firmly and Poe stopped. "What do you mean, 'married'?"

"Rey said it would save you. She … didn't really explain much, but she and Kylo share a bond between them. Now … we do, too. You and me."

"We do?" Well. All the spiritual nonsense he'd felt through the day now had a source. He wasn't going crazy, Sidious hadn't broken something inside his head, and ghosts weren't making him feel things.

"Yeah. We're soul bonded. She said it was permanent. No divorce." Poe bit his lips anxiously and said hastily, "Like I said, I wish I could have asked. It's a lot to put on someone without even … I mean, I know we were friendly, but-"

Hux held up a hand and Poe pulled up short on his guilty rambling. Hux was starting to process this. Whatever Sidious had been doing during the torture was indeed a very similar thing to what Poe was describing, exploiting the connections between people. But the difference was Poe had consented to this union (and the only way to call this 'torture' was in the context of sweet, sweet torture). Slowly, he said, "Rey said that a bond was a bridge between two people."

"Yes! I think so," Poe said. "That makes sense. I should have asked, though. I thought he was going to kill you … but I still should have asked." Poe's remorse was genuine. Hux could feel that, too.

"Of all the things you would apologize for." Hux shook his head in amazement. "Ask now, if it matters so much."

Poe's eyes widened. "Yeah? You don't- I mean, yeah. Do … Do you want to be married to me?"

"You willingly bonded yourself to me such that there is no recourse? To _me_?"

"What? There's nothing wrong with you!" Poe looked back and forth between his eyes. "Are you going to say yes? Come on, you're going to say yes, right?"

"I don't know that it matters what I say." Hux insinuated his fingers into the hole with Poe's. "You took the decision away from me. You're a thief. A scummy Rebel." He tried to sound arch and aloof, but he didn't think he was succeeding. His heart was beating faster than it should have been for just standing here. He could feel it in his throat.

"Oh yeah. I stole your heart," Poe purred, stroking his fingers eagerly. "The only way you're getting it back is if you let me out of here."

"You're only saying that so you can get out. Who knows what you might do if I release you? You're a dangerous criminal."

Poe waggled his brows. "How about you let me out of here and find out?"

"I don't need to let you out. I already have a plan to do you in."

"That's convenient, because I already have a plan to do you."

"You're an arrogant fool!" But there was no remonstration in his voice.

"Oh! Name-calling, now? I-"

Rey interrupted both of them. "Stop it, you two! Stop! Just say yes and get a room already. I can't take this anymore." She and Kylo were in the last pair of occupied cells in this block, just beyond Poe's. Kylo, whom it suddenly occurred to Hux had been suspiciously silent through all of this, fell to chortling noisily. Kaydel, on the other side of Poe's cell, did a better job of stifling her sudden laughter, but he could still hear it.

From further down the corridor came Rose's voice. "_What _… is going on down there?"

He and Poe had been quiet the whole time – low voices, intended only for one another. Kaydel, Rey, and Kylo were probably the only ones able to hear them well enough to make out words, but even without the words, it was clear the two of them were not having a casual conversation.

Hux sighed. He looked at Poe's face, watching (and feeling) as Poe's flirting turned serious – sober and sure as space itself. Reliable. Dependable. And there for him as no one else had ever been. Poe had known who he was right from the start. He'd tried to seduce him anyway (and succeeded). Hux wasn't sure what one looked for in a potential spouse, or if this was the time for him to d a cool-headed, logical review of Dameron's assets and detractions. What he did know was that if he didn't say yes, those 'weak' emotions would overpower him and he didn't know if he'd ever recover from it. Hux knew what he wanted. "I do."

Poe nodded, lifting his head. "Me, too. No regrets."


	113. Poe 15

[Poe]

* * *

"Watch your fingers."

Poe moved them clear. The door slid up. He didn't need to step out – Hux was too close to allow that anyway. Poe reached for him, slower than Hux had done for him before he'd headed off to the bridge, but it was the same gesture. Hux glanced at his hand, seemed to recognize what he was doing, and allowed it. Poe grabbed a fistful of Hux's uniform front and pulled him close, kissing him soundly. Hux made a little helpless huff against his cheek.

It was no longer than the kiss they'd had earlier. Hux pulled back and Poe could feel his attention scatter nervously to their surroundings. "I'm on duty." Poe let go. He wasn't sure what the First Order protocols were concerning public displays of affection, so he'd have to follow Hux's lead on it.

Hux turned, focusing, and took a few quick steps to put himself between Rey and Kylo's cells. He looked at each of them in turn, a longer, more measuring look than he'd given the rest of their group. It was wary. Then he moved on, giving brief glances to the empty cells beyond before coming back. "Is that everyone?" Hux asked.

"Yeah. Except Finn. They took him."

"He's in medbay."

Poe nodded. That was what he'd gathered, but it was good to have it confirmed that Finn was safe.

"We're married?" Hux asked after a pensive pause. Poe nodded again. Hux licked his lips, clenched and released his fists as his thoughts churned. "Are you in command of your people here, of this … mission?"

"Yes."

Another pause. Hux gazed down the corridor toward the security station. Something was happening there. A stormtrooper was half-visible, addressing the security supervisor. Hux went on, "I propose that I end the orders of detention and allow your people to be seen to quarters as guests. We will meet tomorrow and discuss … next steps."

Hux gave Poe an uncertain look, like he was concerned Poe might argue this rephrasing of the exact same idea Poe had proposed minutes earlier. "That's a great idea," Poe deadpanned. "I like it."

Hux nodded, distracted enough for Poe to wonder if he realized he was repeating Poe's suggestion. He looked down the corridor again. "I will need assurances your people will behave. There is to be no sabotage. No escape. No assaults. No hacking into our systems. No subversions." Hux looked back to him intently.

Poe nodded slowly, understanding why Hux was making a fuss about this. "This is completely out of line for the First Order, isn't it? Letting prisoners go?"

"Letting confirmed Resistance members go. Yes. Are you … I don't mean to be insulting, but are you able to promise me what I need in return? Will they obey?"

Poe glanced over at Rey, who was at the front of her cell, and where he could see Kylo's boots in the other. She gave him a nod. He told Hux, "I'll do my best."

"If you cannot, I can leave them here and have you come with me. If we are to have peace," Hux's voice took on an emphatic tone, "it cannot start with an incident."

"It won't," Rey said.

"Ren?" Hux asked.

"Name's Kylo," Kylo said, still lying on the bench in the back of the cell.

"It's rude to refer to you by your personal name unless we're familiar. Are we?"

That was a ridiculous question in Poe's opinion, given the two of them had clearly known each other for years. Maybe they'd bickered like this the whole time. Poe said, "He's going by Kylo now. That's it. No Ren."

Hux blinked at him, then sidestepped so he was looking full into Kylo's cell. "Is that true?"

"Yes."

"You're not Kylo … Solo? Organa? Whatever the custom is?"

"If they don't treat me like part of the family," Kylo said, "then it's not my family name. Just Kylo."

Hux snorted. "I wasn't treated like 'family' and I'm still a Hux! You don't get to simply repudiate your ancestry as convenient! The events of today standing in illustration."

"Point," Kylo mused. "Technically, you're a Palpatine, too."

Poe touched Hux's sleeve. "Hey. We're getting distracted from the part about letting everyone out."

"I don't want to let him out! Let the rest out, but not him!"

Poe sighed and glanced down the corridor. The security supervisor was approaching them. "We got company."

Hux turned. When the supervisor was close enough, the man made a half-bow of his head and said, "Sir. The portage droid has brought dinner for the detainees. Should it be served?" He gave Poe a longer-than-needed look, but didn't comment on him being out of his cell.

"Yes, do so." He held up a finger directing the supervisor to wait. Hux turned to Poe. "No incidents?"

"No incidents."

"I'll wait for you at the security station," Hux said. "Relay your orders to your people and open cells at discretion." He turned to the supervisor and gestured him forward. The two walked to the security station. Poe watched them go, wandering over to Rey's cell as he did. As soon as Hux's boots hit the first step down and out of the cell corridor, he hit the release button.

"Are we supposed to wait here for dinner?" she asked.

"No idea." Poe hit the button for Kylo's door. Kylo rose. "Let's just go."

"I want to eat," she said. Lunch had been fine – nothing special, but a nice change from crab or meal bars.

Poe left them to discuss it as he went down the corridor, opening every cell as he went. He stopped after Rose's and turned to face everyone. "Okay, guys. We have a shot here at getting what we want, what we've fought for, and what people have died for. The First Order under Snoke is gone. Even Palpatine's ghost is gone."

They listened. Poe said, "Tomorrow we can sit down together and talk about how to make a better galaxy, how to have freedom and peace. I think it's possible. I think if we _all_ work on this, we can get there, but it's not going to happen if we blow things up. Tonight, let's have a nice quiet night with no adventures. Okay?"

Everyone looked at one another. They seemed agreeable. C'ai said, "Poe, you are the most likely among us to cause trouble."

Poe flashed him a quick grin. "Yeah, okay, you got me there. But I have plans already. Causing trouble isn't among them."

"What are they?"

That's what he got for assuming everyone had heard his conversation with Hux. "Uh … private plans. Me and Hux."

"Ah."

Rose said, "I want to see Finn."

Poe nodded. "He's a priority for me, too. Let's go see if we can find him."


	114. Lady 8

[Lady]

* * *

Lady tracked down General Hux in security station A43. He was making entries on a terminal as Poe Dameron and Rose Tico looked on, food trays in hand. There was no tray for Hux and she knew he'd skipped lunch. She would have shot an accusing look at Dameron, but he wouldn't see it through her helmet. Also, the environment was … chaotic.

All the Resistance members were out of their cells, standing around eating dinner and loudly ribbing one another some food joke she wasn't privy to. FL-2216 and FN-9037 were on either side of the interior of the door, guarding the general from them rather than from anyone outside. But it wasn't like they were on alert. Sharps had his gun in his hand, but he did nearly all the time, so that meant nothing. Sergeant FL-2216 was empty-handed, which meant all was well despite the noise.

The security supervisor was sitting in his chair, quietly observing with a pinched expression. Most officers had a better poker face. Maybe he was unusually stressed. Lady stopped near the general and waited for his acknowledgment.

He turned to her shortly. "Lieutenant? Your code cylinder." She produced it from one of her utility belt pouches. He ran it under the scanner and finished with whoever was on the other end of the comm link. He handed the cylinder back to her. "When the quartermaster makes allocations, you will transmit the room numbers to your staff sergeant. She and …" He looked over at Sharps.

"FN-9037, sir," Lady prompted, glad he wanted the designation and didn't simply default to 'him' or 'that trooper' as so many higher-ranking officers did.

"FN-9037 are to escort our guests to their rooms. No detours. No use of force."

"Yes sir."

"Until then, they will wait here. I need to visit medbay to see about the last member. You will accompany me."

"Yes sir." That was convenient. She hadn't wanted to broach the subject of the exemption in front of a crowd, but at the same time she strongly suspected the only way she would find time to speak to him was to make it. He'd been on the move almost nonstop, with the only pause being to review logs and make some communications.

He looked at Poe's food tray. There was a little left on it, but Poe put it aside immediately. "I'm done."

"Me, too." That from Commander Tico. Less convenient, Lady realized as they turned to leave – it wasn't Hux alone, but all three. Plus, if they were going straight to medbay, then she didn't have much time – either to make a case or present it.

She fretted about it as they walked down the hall toward the lifts, but there was nothing for it. For obvious logistical reasons, the lift would take them directly to the entrance of the central medbay without stops or security checks. (When someone needed to get to medbay, the lift's priority sequencing made sure there were no delays.) She didn't want to show up with Hux next to her and him not know what exemption the doctor was asking about.

"Sir? I need to speak with you before we get to medbay."

He looked between her, Dameron, Tico, and back to her. "Privately?"

"Not … necessarily." She didn't see that it mattered. And, if she were being sly, then talking about this in front of Dameron might incite the rebel to promote her side, what with his yelling at her earlier today that she wasn't to shoot FO-1282. She wasn't completely sure his backing would help, but the general seemed quite taken with the man.

"Good." Hux pressed the button for the lift. The doors whisked open and they entered.

She was direct. "I have requested an exemption from medical termination for FO-1282. She was injured in the course of battle in the hangar bay."

"Does she warrant it?"

Dameron tensed, started to say something, then shut his mouth. Tico's brows drew together. Lady said, "I don't know her full record, sir, but she was the one who killed the crab at the wing site, first by climbing on top of it for a point-blank discharge and then by shoving her blaster inside its mouth when it continued to attack. She showed bravery, dexterity, ingenuity, and persistence."

"Those are good traits," Hux said. "What are her injuries?"

"She was hit by blaster bolt in the back of the knee. If rehabilitated, she will … she will be able to walk and have most of her mobility."

Hux's gaze went momentarily distant. "Most. She will have a permanent impairment?"

She swallowed. That was the crux of it. "Yes."

"And in the assessment of medical personnel, she was to be terminated?"

"Yes sir. I am … contesting it."

He raised a brow at her in faint amusement.

The lift reached its destination and opened. Tico moved in front of the doors and said, "Wait. You're talking about killing one of your own people because they got injured? Finn's told me how troopers don't get proper care, but this is actually going out of your way to kill her? I saw what H-whatever, 482, did to Ten-ten. But that was in the field. You have a medbay here. Why would you not provide medical care?"

"Why would we, medbay or not?" Hux asked. "And for that matter, why do you care about the lives of our stormtroopers _now_?"

"They're people!" Tico objected. Lady ignored the blinking light in her peripheral vision of the helmet that told her she had a message waiting. It was probably about room assignments. It could wait.

Hux said to Tico, "Where was that sentiment three weeks ago when you sabotaged our ship and enabled the attack that split the _Supremacy_ in twain? That killed more than two million 'people'. You can't convince me you wept over any of _them_."

Rose's face froze for a moment. Her lips tensed. "That was war. And you were trying to kill us."

"Truly," Hux said in a tired, scathing tone. "On war footing, we do not have the resources to rehabilitate and repurpose every injured trooper. Especially not when they have no special training and we have an entire graduating class of new ones who can seamlessly replace them."

"So that's what will happen to Finn?" Rose said bitterly. "He can barely walk, too."

Lady wondered if she should point out that Finn had said he was an officer and officers had more options available to them than mere troopers. But then it occurred to her Finn might have been _lying_, claiming he was an officer when he wasn't. Maybe that was what his weird looks had been about.

Maybe he was hoping Hux would be too busy with everything else to review his situation, and the reconstruction would go through based on nothing more than Finn's word and the blank uniform he'd been wearing. It was not only possible but probable. If Hux had stopped for meals or rest, then he wouldn't have had time to look into the matter personally. She decided to keep her mouth shut.

Dameron said, "What happens when you're not on war footing?"

Hux turned sullen as he looked to Dameron. "It's never happened."

"What's to say it's not happening right now?" Dameron continued, trying to be persuasive. "Who are you at war with?"

"At the very least, the Resistance." The two of them looked at each other steadily for a long beat. Dameron looked away first, chastised or disappointed. The lift beeped a complaint about Tico still blocking the door, but she didn't move and the general was making no indication that she should.

Hux's attention was on Dameron. "Unless you have some intelligence on the intentions of General Organa … that you wish to share?" His voice quieted. "I don't ask it of you. Your loyalties are your own."

Dameron's voice softened, too. "We weren't here to overthrow you. We still aren't. Can we just … help anyone who was hurt and discuss the rest tomorrow?"

Hux studied him for a long beat, then turned to Lady. "Exemption granted." Lady felt a weight lift from her shoulders. They moved from the door of the lift, but even though they were directly in front of medbay, Hux didn't enter. Instead, he asked her, "How did things turn out with your other troops?"

"FN-9028 will be able to stand limited duty tomorrow. After a few days, he should be at full capability."

Hux nodded. "Any other issues?"

She should mention something about DL-1364. She knew she should. With no physical injuries, DL-1364 had been unable to continue during battle and had to be left behind when the rest accompanied the general to the bridge. As it turned out, her presence wasn't needed, but they hadn't known that. It was a critical failure no matter how you looked at it. "No sir."

"Good," he said. "Another thing I want to address – the active assignment for you and your squad is to be my personal guards, effective immediately. Arrange your duty roster around that. Once rooms are assigned, I will want one of your people outside my door all night along with one person chosen at random from _Allegiance_ security. Do not accept volunteers. Don't even ask for them. No primes."

"Understood."

"You don't trust them?" Dameron asked.

"I'm being cautious," Hux said. "I shot the man who commanded this ship for decades. And then there is the matter of your people and Kylo R- Kylo. Though I think if you had ill intentions toward me, you would have done something about it before."

"I have the best of intentions toward you, Hugs," Dameron said.

Hux blushed and gave Dameron a warmer smile than Lady had thought him capable of.

"Yeah," Dameron nearly purred. "That's what I like to see."

"I'm …" Hux swallowed and turned to Lady, "still on duty." To her, he said, "Two shifts should be sufficient. After tonight, you should be able to arrange a rotating schedule so I have two of your people with me at all times. The one who can do limited duty – can he wear armor and carry a weapon for an entire shift?"

"Yes sir. But he won't be worth much in a fight."

"That's fine. He's a set of eyes and can use a comm. Pair him with the sharpshooter or yourself. Have you heard anything about room assignments?"

She did a quick confirmation on the message she'd left waiting. "Yes sir. While we were talking."

He nodded. "I'll be retiring after this. We should have fresh uniforms delivered in the morning, but I expect no other interruptions. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir!" She wondered if he'd noticed her attention had strayed to the scheduling, or if he was saying assassins might say they had an appointment or a delivery to make. Then she saw Dameron smirk and Tico roll her eyes slightly. Oh. Right. No other interruptions.

Hux said, "Make the security arrangements."

"Yes sir."


	115. Finn 9

[Finn]

* * *

"No, it's not that bad." Finn was telling FN-9028 about his experiences in the Resistance. "It's confusing at times and you have to keep an open-" The door swung open. It was Hux, Poe, and Rose, trailed by Lt. Lady. "Guys!" he said cheerfully to them.

Rose grinned and rushed over to him. They hugged. She was so small that he lifted her from the floor as he sat sideways on his bed. He was so happy she still wanted to be with him (or at least greet him like this). Over her shoulder, he could see FN-9028 eyeball their extreme familiarity like it was rude (which it was in the Order). "An open mind," Finn said to him, swinging Rose to the side so she sat next to him on the bed. The man looked away.

"What's that?" Rose asked, parting from him.

"I was just finishing my sentence from earlier," he told her. The lieutenant and the three troopers in here with him started carrying on their own conversation at their beds. Finn put his arm around Rose and turned to Poe and Hux.

Poe asked, "How are you feeling? Did they patch you up?"

"They gave me the good stuff," Finn allowed. "But they also said I tore a tendon or something in my leg. Bacta won't fix it, but they can do some kind of surgery that would. Last I heard, they were checking on approval to go forward with that."

He looked to Hux, who said, "Yes, I've been told you were impersonating an officer."

He wanted to insist he _was_ an officer. But he wasn't. Not in the Resistance. Not in the Order. His leg wouldn't be fixed until he was (or until he got somewhere else in the galaxy where they didn't hold their people hostage with healthcare access). "Have you made your decision?"

"I was just relating to your friends here how short-handed we've been since the Battle of Crait. You participated in that battle. On the wrong side."

"You know what I did and I've explained why. What do you want from me?"

Hux's answer was immediate. "Loyalty. Obedience. Unwavering allegiance to the Order. How do I get that from you, given your history?"

"Make the Order something I'll follow."

"It's the principle of the thing," Hux said.

"Exactly – the principle. We agree." Or at least, Finn wanted them to be in agreement.

Hux frowned. Poe told him, "You let Lt. Helsted go without charges because she didn't want to serve Sidious. How is what Finn did any different, that he didn't want to serve Snoke and his policies?"

Hux said dryly, "We _all_ served Snoke for six years. If he was so awful, then why did we only have the one defection?"

Finn said, "Because we were all brainwashed. With Sidious it was … quick. He just showed up and started doing things. Of course, some people are going to refuse to go along. With Snoke it was gradual and it started before him, anyway. It's in the whole training program!"

"My father," Hux said, but it was hard to read if this was a condemnation or simple fact.

Finn pursed his lips and nodded. "Yeah. Him, I guess. He was always in charge of everything. But that's the thing – he's _not_ anymore. _You_ are!" Finn leaned forward. "I want to rejoin the Order because of _you._ Because I see a chance for things to change. To improve. _You_ can make things better!"

Hux was blinking at him, taken aback and uncertain. Finn plowed ahead even though he didn't have any extraordinary faith in Armitage Hux as a person. But someone had to do it and Hux was in position for it. "We can _all_ make things better! Snoke's gone. General Hux – Your father, I mean – is gone. Even Kylo Ren is out of the picture. It's just the Order. The military. We are the instrument you preached about in every morning address – our purpose, our goal, is to bring justice and peace to the galaxy.

"It's happened! It's over. The war is over!" Finn gestured expansively. He had to win this guy over. He had to point him in the right direction. "Things can change now. That's what I want to be part of. And I will be loyal to the end if that's our mission."

Finn waited, but Hux remained speechless. Finn continued, "I will not serve a supreme leader or an emperor who gained his position by betrayal, deceit, or the Force. But that's not _you_."

This time Finn waited until Hux finally spoke. Faltering, Hux said, "I am … legitimate." It was almost a question.

"Yes," Finn said. Rose made a small sound next to him. Poe raised his head, a small smile flickering onto his lips and then leaving. He patted Hux on the back somewhere.

Hux swallowed and cleared his throat. "Your reasoning is good. I said … I covered some of those points in my first address after Ren was ousted. You are right – we do agree in principle. I think that is sufficient."

Finn nodded. Poe smiled more openly. Rose slipped a hand around Finn's waist. She told him, "I want to stay here with you tonight. We need to talk."

He exhaled heavily. "Okay. Gotta find out when they're doing the surgery." He snuck a look at Hux, waiting for his decision.

Hux huffed in amusement. "I'll talk to the doctor on the way out and make sure they have the proper authorizations to proceed." He gestured at the troopers in the next beds over. "For both of you."


	116. Spots 4

[Spots]

* * *

The lieutenant wasted no time in relating the good news. "The exemption was granted."

Spots drew in a sharp breath. Tears came to her eyes and a wave of tingling relief ran through her. She looked over at the general, grateful he'd allowed it. She tried to straighten and blink away the tears in case he looked, but for now his attention was on Finn.

She turned back to Lady. "Thank you." While it wasn't strange for commanders to stick up for their own, Lady was an officer now with even more incentive than most to distance herself from the lower ranks. Viciousness from the lower ranks tended to be rewarded by the upper, whereas loyalty and protection from the upper ranks was most valued by the lower. But it was the higher ranks who held all the power, so they got to decide what gained advantage. Plus, Lady hardly knew Spots. Officially, such decisions were supposed to be entirely impartial. But they never were. "Thank you so much."

"No more of that," Lady said brusquely. "We've been appointed the general's personal guards. I need you all of you back in service as quickly as possible." She turned to Major. "FN-9028, you'll be standing a shift tomorrow. I'll have your new armor brought to you here."

"Yes sir," Major said.

Lady listed a room on the ship. "Go directly from medical discharge to this location. You'll relieve whoever is standing watch over the general's quarters. It will be either Sharps or Flag if you get there early. Me if you get there late. You and I will be on the day shift, following the general as his security detail."

Lady turned to DL-1364. "Your duty is FO-1282. You are to accompany her through treatment and understand her recovery plan along with any therapy needed. Can you do that?"

"Yes sir."

Lady started to turn away. "What will I do?" Spots asked, entirely out of turn but desperate to know.

"Recover."

"No, I mean … after I recover. Will I be security?"

"We'll discuss that tomorrow, when we have an idea of your capabilities. You might be an aide. He needs one. _I_ need one." Lady gestured at her ear. "I need to brief the others."

An aide. A diplomat. A trooper. She realized Lady had no idea what to do with her. But she was trying to find something, anything. Spots would try to make that easy for her. She listened to the end of Finn's speech to the general and wondered if he, too, was trying to work together with command to get things done, rather than just working _for_ them.


	117. Poe 16

[Poe]

* * *

"Oh," Poe said, looking around the rooms after the door whisked shut behind them, guards outside.

"What's that?" Hux asked.

"I don't know why," Poe shrugged, "but I was expecting your quarters on the _Finalizer_." The rooms were even more sterile than Hux's had been there – no crates of Snoke's stuff, no starscapes – just flat, shiny black walls and minimal, dull-looking furniture. "We're not even on the same ship, though."

Hux grunted. "No, but it's the same class, so they look similar. How do you know what … Ah, you went by my quarters before seeking me out."

Poe walked over to Hux and pulled something out of his pocket. "I did. And I found this while I was there. I don't know if the ship survived, but I can give you this." He presented the stone he'd taken from it. It felt like something that had happened weeks ago, but was only a few days.

Hux's smile was genuine to see it. He took it from Poe's hand and turned it over, looking at the chip. He ran a thumb over it, then held the stone and rubbed at it as he said, "The superstructure of the _Finalizer_ has been taken to a shipyard for repair. I didn't read the details. My quarters were interior, so they might be intact."

Poe said, "That's a worry stone, isn't it?"

"Hm?"

Poe shook his head. He doubted the First Order even had the concept. "It's, uh, something you fidget with."

"I don't fidget."

Sensing the defensiveness under that, Poe said, "Of course you don't." He glanced down at where Hux had wrapped his hand around it as a fist. It wasn't threatening, just seemed to be something he was doing to keep himself from rubbing it. "Come here." Poe put his arms around Hux slowly, giving him time to adjust to the idea, then hugged him. "It's been a rough day. It's over now."

Hux relaxed into him, putting his arms around him in turn and holding the stone loosely. There was a deep serenity in the moment, a quiet surrender to their shared humanity, and an acceptance of intimacy that flooded the bond between them. Poe felt his lids get heavy. He was tired. So was Hux. Hux was also hungry and his spirit felt raw.

Hux pulled back, his expression sharpening. "I feel something from you – your emotions. Why?"

"Why? The bond." That seemed obvious.

"No," Hux said patiently. "Why are you showing me your emotions?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Poe felt the fingers of Hux's empty hand feel over his arm. There was anxiety and a tired uncertainty in the gesture, literally feeling him out. Softer, Poe said, "We're married. You said that in the security corridor after letting me out of that cell, when you were deciding if you could trust me, us, and let the rest out. Sharing how we feel … that's a part of marriage, as I understand it."

Hux nodded slowly. "I see," he said quietly, and Poe couldn't tell how he felt about that – it was too murky. Hux sat on the bed, putting the stone on the bedside table. "There's nothing to me aside from being a soldier. Yet you still think I could be a husband? Your husband? You want this? There has to be a way out of it if you don't."

Poe followed him, but didn't sit. He touched Hux's hair with less reservation and caution than he'd shown in the shuttle. Hux's eyes slid shut and he leaned into the touch as Poe let his fingers drift over temple and cheek. "You _are_ my husband. There's more to you than being a soldier. I want all of it – all of _you_." At that, Hux's eyes opened again and he looked up. There was all the stark vulnerability of someone who had never had anyone be kind to him and didn't know what to do with it, but was desperate to have more.

Poe bent and kissed him. As he did, Hux unfastened Poe's shirt and pushed it open, then did the same for his own. Poe got the message. When they broke, he took off his boots and then pants, shucking off the shirt as well. He set his necklace on the bedside table as Hux was busy undressing himself.

Naked, Poe climbed on the bed. They lay side by side. Hux skimmed his fingers along Poe's hip. He didn't look tired anymore. Hux came forward, giving him short kisses as he figured out how to fit their bodies together. Poe let him explore. "You want this?" he said, re-purposing Hux's words as he stretched.

Hux mock-assessed him, then looked up at Poe under golden brows. "I said I do."

Poe smirked. He dropped a hand across Hux's belly to the tight bronze curls of his pubic hair. He was erect – they both were – and Poe carefully drew the tips of his fingers across the soft, sensitive skin of Hux's penis. The bond let the sensation sizzle along his nerves in an echo of what it was doing to Hux. Poe gave a broad, lazy grin. This was terrific.

Hux sucked in air. "Kriff. Do I do the same?" He brushed the back of his knuckles on Poe's stomach and then moved to take him in hand as Poe nodded, letting it happen and feeling his way through it. Poe had his hand wrapped around Hux's shaft by then, smoothing up and down it slowly, giving himself shivers and goosebumps that nearly had him laughing at how good this was. Hux curled forward, resting his forehead on Poe's shoulder. Poe envied him that the only sex he'd ever know would be augmented like this.

Hux's hips were moving in jerky thrusts, trying to follow the pace Poe was giving with his hand and not succeeding at it. "I cannot-," he started, then changed. "How am I do anything for you while you're distracting me like this?"

"We take turns," Poe said. "It's a compliment that you're too broken up to do me, too." He firmed his grip, focused on the matter at hand, and began pumping properly. It was dry, but there was enough loose foreskin to do it. He was rewarded by a shuddering groan from the man who'd probably never had so much as a hand job from someone else. Hux kept a hand on Poe's dick, although he gave only fitful strokes. His other hand was hooked around Poe's neck.

Hux kissed him, sudden and desperate. Poe could feel him clinging to the bond like a lifeline, using it to pull them closer somehow. The hand job was good – definitely arousing – but it wasn't as important as the kissing. Accordingly, Poe put more attention where it was needed. He groaned into Hux's mouth. Hux whimpered in return. Poe bore down on him, pressing close, exploring him, sucking at his lips when his tongue had had enough.

He could feel what he needed to do at least as far as physical sensations went. Hux's feedback went beyond any simple reading of cues; the bond meant Poe felt what he was doing like an echo. The emotional side was more complicated. All Poe could be certain of in that area was that it was a mess and currently overwhelmed by the sex. He kept it that way until Hux came in a huffing, gasping completion between them.

Hux was breathing hard and shaking a little. He made a cut-off mewling sound and tucked himself into Poe's arms. Poe held him close and murmured into his ear, "I love you." The shaking intensified into sobs as the emotional release – of the day, maybe his whole life – spilled out. "I love you," Poe repeated, suddenly knowing what Hux needed from him – this, all of this. And it was so easy to give.

Poe laid tiny kisses on his temple and the side of his head, running his hands up and down Hux's back. Free of all the competing sensations, he could really focus on the resonance between them. Hux was concerned, afraid, tired, needy, vulnerable. He was also safe. And happy. Hopeful, despite his doubts. Poe nuzzled him and kissed him more.

His erection had faded considerably by the time Hux's hands found it again. "Mm," Poe said, still mouthing at the side of Hux's hair. Hux scooted down the bed abruptly. "Wha- Um …" Poe didn't object further. Hux took him into his mouth without preamble, scraping him with his teeth enough that Poe flinched. Hux froze for a second, tightened his lips and adjusted position, then resumed – teeth not involved this time. Poe blew out air. Virgins.

He caressed Hux's hair, neck, and shoulder as the man worked him with hands and mouth. He could do that much, but he found it impossible to focus enough to sense what Hux was feeling. Poe didn't try more than passingly. It didn't take long before he was saying, "I'm going to come." Hux stopped. Poe couldn't make out his emotions, but he didn't need to. He pulled out, stroked himself a few times, and tried to point himself to the sheets instead of Hux's face. He still got him on the neck somewhat.

"I … I could have …" Hux said. He moved back up the bed, studying Poe with more than a little anxiety. Poe noted he was getting emotions again, now that he wasn't being overwhelmed by everything else.

Poe kissed him, feeling boneless and relaxed. "I know. Some other time if you want to try swallowing. The first time is not when you need to risk finding out it gags you."

"Does it? Is that common?"

Poe shook his head. "I don't know what's common or not. Just matters how you feel. We'll have other times."

Hux exhaled heavily – a bit of fear, a lot of uncertainty, like he half-expected some very negative reaction. Poe pulled the man into his arms gently, letting Hux relax into him, feeling the fear dissipate.

"We will," Hux murmured into Poe's shoulder.

"We will," Poe affirmed. They dozed.


	118. Rose 10

[Rose]

* * *

The doctor who came in was a crotchety old woman who looked aged enough to have been in practice during the Empire, but her eyes were sharp and her motions deliberate. She gave Finn a once-over and said curtly, "Can you stand?"

"Yes sir."

"Can you walk?"

"Um … somewhat."

"Good enough." She punched the follow-along command on the bed he was in. It trailed behind her as she walked down a hall and into another room. Her gait rolled and swayed like there was something wrong with her spine, but she moved purposefully like someone who had had this condition for many years. Rose followed quietly, having not been told to stay away. The doctor hadn't looked at her at all, nor at the troopers clustered on their own beds.

Once in the other room, the doctor turned off the follow-along and gestured to an odd bed that looked something like a starfish. Or a restraint table. It looked nothing like what few medical tables Rose had seen, although admittedly she'd never seen one designed for operations or, well, anything more intensive than a check-up or bedrest. "Move to that," the doctor said dismissively. She was activating one of the two droids that flanked the odd bed.

Finn pulled the gurney over close enough to manage the transfer from bed to bed, without touching the floor. He settled in, eyeing the equipment like it was as unfamiliar to him as it was to Rose.

"Sit up," the doctor said, adjusting the bed so the top part of it was slanted, leaving his legs flat. Finn moved his arms away from the 'arms' of the thing. They had restraint straps on them. The doctor pushed the gurney out of the way against a far wall, gave Rose a chilling and silent once-over, then moved to activate the other droid.

"So, as you may have guessed," the woman said to Finn, "I will be your doctor today overseeing your surgery. Scoot back as far as you can. We will need a firm contact between your back and the bed."

"… Okay." Finn did as directed, but kept his hands in his lap. The doctor pulled off the bedsheet which was all he had on. She wadded it up and tossed it on the gurney. One of the droids extended an appendage with a device and a tube, in the direction of Finn's hands.

"Put that on," the doctor said. Finn obliged. It was a catheter of some kind. Finn took it gingerly and fumbled through attaching it. The doctor said, "Sometimes the paralytics miss and your bladder empties. Not everyone is the same on the inside. So let's take a look at your internals before we start poking and cutting."

The doctor activated a holoprojection that took form in front of Finn's bed. She stood next to him, facing forward as Finn was. Rose saw it in reverse, so much of it was blurred. It showed Finn's body, with details on his spine. The doctor pointed at his pelvis. "This looks normal enough. We'll start with numbing your leg from the hip down so you won't feel anything. You'll also lose motor function, but it will return within an hour."

Something blinked where she indicated. The bed parted in the middle just a centimeter or two. Finn jumped. "Whoa!"

"Stay put. You see this?" She pointed at the blinking spot again.

He looked up at it from examining the new crack in the bed. "Yeah?"

"You'll feel a bit of cold here and then a pressure on your skin. That will be the injection." She turned to look directly at Finn, voice turning steely. "Hold still for it. That's an order."

"Yes sir." Finn's voice sounded subdued. He grimaced a moment later, but didn't move.

The doctor nodded approvingly and turned to one of the droids. "Begin prep." The droid moved to Finn's side and light began playing over his leg. The doctor cycled through a few other screens on the holoprojector. The one she settled on had Finn's naked body, standing. He must have been scanned on admission, as far as Rose could figure.

"It looks like everything else was muscle tears, treatable with healing compound and growth accelerant." She flicked her fingers in the air, scrolling through a text block to the side of the representation of Finn's body. "Hm, already treated. Nothing for me to do there. What did you say these injuries were caused by?"

"Space bugs. Like pill-bugs crossed with crabs. Anywhere from the size of my fist to this big." Finn held his hands apart to indicate. "They swarmed me and tried to eat me."

"Looks like they succeeded to an extent. But you should be at full mobility when I'm done here. Or at least when you heal from it, which will only take a few days." She reviewed the holo a bit more, expanding the area of his thigh and studying it. The image was augmented with what Rose assumed was an internal view of his musculature. The droid that was irradiating Finn's thigh (and probably providing the data for the interior scan of his leg in addition to sterilizing) moved back.

The doctor glanced over at the droid on the opposite side. "Do you have the mesh?" It made an affirmative beep. "Good," she told it. She turned to Finn. "I have to ask you something, something that won't leave this room from my lips. Back in the old days it wouldn't matter, but everyone is from such different genetic stock these days."

"What is it?"

"Are you squeamish?"

"Uh … no."

"Good. Sedating you brings its own complications and I'd rather avoid them." She turned off the holoprojector and took up an implement of some kind. "Because although this is surgery, this particular operation is more akin to butchery." Rose swallowed and moved a step closer, tense. "On some fancy core world," the doctor went on, "they'd use tiny incisions and very specific droids to do what I'm about to do. But you see, I don't do many of these operations and it helps to be able to see what I'm doing."

"Uh, yeah," Finn said nervously. "That sounds good." He traded looks with Rose. The doctor turned on the implement. It illuminated his thigh. "I can't feel my leg!" Finn said suddenly, reaching down.

The doctor grabbed his wrist with her free hand as the droid next to her beeped an injunction. "No touching. You'll contaminate the sterilization field. Do you need restraints?" She asked it as calmly as if she was asking if he needed painkillers. Finn shook his head.

"Then don't touch. That's also an order." Her voice wasn't as hard this time, but Finn still pursed his lips and put his hands to his sides when she released him. He looked at the restraints next to his arms and moved them back to his lap, awkwardly keeping them to the side away from the leg she was operating on.

She went on conversationally, "Some people find seeing their innards traumatic. It's really just an emotional thing, you see. You'll heal the same either way – big cut or little cut. You'd be amazed at the degree of soft tissue damage bacta will heal. It's very forgiving. You can do just about anything to someone so long as you know a little physiology."

As she spoke, she drew the implement down his thigh, his flesh parting behind it. Blood welled up. Both droids busied themselves on either side to staunch it, the one extending over his other leg and the closer one working around the doctor. Finn paled. He watched for a moment as the doctor sliced deeper with steady, confident strokes, no more concerned about what she was doing than if she were slicing meat. Finn gave no sign of pain, but he quickly locked eyes with Rose and stayed like that as the doctor droned on.

"Yes, here it is. We'll just graft that mesh on here and get everything back into position. You see, as long as you don't sever anything and limit how intrusive you are, bacta will wipe it all away so that there's no trace of what you did to someone. Remarkable stuff. Probably the most potent tool in the ISB's arsenal. I've always said that. So few people understand it until they go under the knife, or see an interrogation subject pristine and camera-ready the next day. Not a scratch on them." She sounded delighted. She gave Finn a wolfish grin. "But they remember it."

Finn cleared his throat uneasily and glanced down as the droid handed over whatever the tendon mesh was. Rose didn't get a good look at it, except that it was white, flimsy, and dripping a clear fluid. It looked like his thigh had been laid open to the bone, peeled back to either side where the other droid was holding it open. The doctor hummed an unfamiliar ditty while she worked, using different implements offered to her by the same droid that had produced the mesh.

It took her only a moment. "Now we'll just staple you back up. Not literally, of course, that would be barbaric but it _is_ possible. Implants sometimes require it. You'll be fine, though. Here, see, we'll just apply enough gel here and there, a little lexan and some ambori wax to seal it in and you'll be all fixed up." She straightened, surveying her work with a proud expression. "See?"

Finn gave his leg a perplexed look. It was back to normal. There was a line down it about as long as his hand and a cross-cut above his knee that went a quarter of the way around. But otherwise, everything was … sealed. The length of the lines were smaller than Rose would have expected given how nasty he'd looked in the middle of the surgery. The droids were finishing cleaning him so there wasn't even any blood to be seen. "Huh. Yeah." He sounded faint.

"You'll be assigned a moving-chair," she said. "Stay in it for three days. Walk only as needed for hygiene, to get into bed, or to shift to a duty seat. Desk duties only. You are not cleared to be on your feet for any length of time greater than a minute until three days have passed. Stretch your legs often, both of them. If it hurts, don't do it. If it bleeds or the incision comes open, come back to medbay for a scolding and repair. And come back here in three days anyway for evaluation and release to light duty. Understood?"

"Yes sir. We're … I'm done here? I leave? My leg's still numb. And paralyzed."

"You leave. I'll have someone bring you an outfit so you're polite in the hallways and I'll get you the chair. The sensation and control will come back over the next hour. I know all about pain management. You'll be fine."

Rose moved over to Finn after the doctor left. She handed him the bed sheet. "Well. That was scary. I didn't know the First Order employed imperial torturers as doctors."

Finn cracked a grin. "Me neither. Dr. Creepy there. You really think she was an imperial torturer?"

"I don't know, but I know _I_ don't want to end up in here. Makes me reconsider suggesting anyone get medical care in the Order." And made her appreciate Dr. Kalonia more.

Finn chuckled. "Maybe so, but I guess she did an okay job. Let's get out of here."


	119. Finn 10

[Finn]

* * *

It was well into the night shift when Finn and Rose finally left the medbay. They'd had to wait for the clothes, for the chair, and for a couple troopers to show up as escorts. Finn believed he could have found their rooms without their guidance, even though he had never been stationed on an imperial ship. How different could the layout be?

The troopers might also be there as security, but if so it was an incompetent effort for troopers trained in internal police work. There was no chain of custody. If they hadn't wanted to wait for their escorts, they could have just wandered out of medbay on their own. He wondered if he'd been out of the loop on something important.

He blew it off. They waited anyway. FL-2216 (the staff sergeant he knew) and CC-4490 (some _Allegiant_ trooper he did not know) arrived and led them to the rooms. "Long shift?" he said to FL-2216, who'd been up all day, fought, and had now apparently been tasked with a night shift. He felt exhausted himself, and he'd spent most of the afternoon and evening lying in bed or sitting. She wobbled her head. He laughed a little and wobbled his back. CC-4490 eyed him.

FL-2216 explained, "He used to be a trooper."

"Ah." CC-4490 continued to look sideways at him, up and down this time.

Finn knew what he was looking for and the off-duty outfit provided by the medbay didn't have it. "Rank hasn't been finalized. I'm not carrying a code cylinder."

CC-4490 faced ahead again, minding his own business then. The rest of the journey was quiet, with Finn scooting along on his mechanized chair while Rose walked next to him. FL-2216 keyed open the door. Finn and Rose went inside. The door shut behind them. He turned in the seat and looked at it. The panel was unchanged.

Rose asked, "These are the quarters for married officers?"

"Yeah," he said distractedly. Finn backed up the chair. The door opened automatically. It wasn't locked. Down the hall, he could see the two troopers marching off, leaving them unattended and unwatched. There was no way that was merely sloppy work. It was intentional. He rolled back into the room, the doors shutting behind him. "There's no security? They're not even posting guards."

Rose sat on the bed, looking around the room. "No. Poe said no adventures tonight and we'd all sit down tomorrow, with General Hux I guess, and have input on … I don't know, but how to make things better."

"Really?"

She nodded and shrugged. "That's what he said. Do you think it's real?"

"Well, if it _wasn't_, then there would be guards. Or at least they'd have locked the door." He rolled over to the entry to the refresher. "I don't think I'm up for adventures anyway. I'm barely up to managing the refresher." He put his weight on his leg gingerly. Part of the sole of his foot was still numb and the entire limb felt weird, but it worked.

"Do you need help?"

"No. I think I've got this." He took a careful, limping step in. Confident of his ability to do the rest, he stopped and looked back at her. "Rose," he said, heartfelt. "Thank you."

"For offering to help?"

He gave a short nod. "For being here in case I need help overnight, on anything. For staying with me during that gross, scary surgery. For saving my life, _again_." She started to interrupt, but he went on. "And all of that _after_ … I don't know. Did we break up? Are we together? I'm- You weren't okay with me rejoining. And … I'm rejoining."

The tension drained from her face. "I'm with you. You're welcome."

He wasn't sure if that was an answer to his questions, but he left it alone. He took care of his business and limped back to the chair, manually rolling it over to the bed. She'd pulled out the blankets on one end and unbuttoned her clothes some to prepare for sleep. She left to take her own turn in the refresher. He climbed in the prepared bed. When she returned, she joined him.

They both laid on their backs, the light blanket pulled over them. The lights were still up. Finn was aware he should call out for them to dim, but he didn't do it. "I'm really sleepy," he said.

"Me, too," Rose replied.

And so, they should sleep. Instead, Finn said, "You know, this is the first time we've ever laid in a bed together that was big enough for both of us."

"That's true." Rose reached to her side and found his hand. It wasn't for a brief squeeze. She held it. He sighed, feeling his tension ebb. She said, "You're really-" she started, then paused for a while before trying again, "You're really going to stay here if they let you?"

He nodded. "Yes."

She sighed. "What happens if they order you to fire on the Resistance?"

"I doubt I'll be in a gunnery position. But if I was, the Resistance would be better served by having me behind the gun here than anywhere else. Because I'm not going to shoot people unless I'm sure it's right."

"A people who kill a soldier for being wounded isn't going to let you live from refusing to follow orders. You'll be executed."

He shrugged one shoulder. "They've tried before."

She rolled to turn toward him, gripping his hand tightly. "Finn … haven't you … _learned_? You're better off not dead."

He rolled on his side to face her and took her hand in both of his. "Fear of dying is not what drives me anymore. I know I'm not going to live forever. No one does. What matters is doing the right thing in the time you have. The best place for me to protect people is here."

"Here," she repeated.

"_Here_," he said emphatically.

She sat up, pulling her hand away and hugging herself. She asked him, "How are you going to stop them from pillaging planets? How are you going to stop them from taking children? How are we going to stop them from anything they want to do, ever, at all?"

A slow smile grew on his face as he looked up at her. "You know, a few weeks ago I felt the same way – get as far away from the Order as possible and never come back. But how is the Resistance going to stop them with one freighter and thirty or forty people, total?" His tone hardened as years of military training led him to say, "They're not, Rose. They're not."

Rose swallowed, fingers tightening on her arms. "We have a few other ships …" Her voice was small.

Finn decided not to address that because sure, they had a single squadron of x-wings and a corvette hulk that so far, didn't have life support. It wasn't a fleet. "The best place for me to be to stop all of that anyway is _here_ – where it starts."

She nodded slowly. "I know. I'm just … I am so afraid I'm going to lose you forever. That you'll die. Just like everyone else has." Her voice caught. She was crying, he realized.

"Rose!" He sat up and hugged her, his eyes wet, too. "I'm so sorry." She'd lost her family, her sister, and surely she'd had friends among the hundreds who'd died over Crait. He hadn't known any of them (and besides, he'd been trained ruthlessly not to flinch from casualties of war, or at least not show that he did), but she must have known them. Some of them.

When they finally parted, Finn's brows were drawn together with concern. He left his hands on her small shoulders, and told her as earnestly as he could, "Rose, you are so special to me. I love you, like I've never loved anyone else. I feel things when I'm with you. And you've made me … think of things, face things, and realize what I really want to do in life. I want to be that hero you thought I was to start with."

"Finn, you are-"

He gave her a dismissive eye roll. "Listen, we both know what I was trying to do then. But I'm not doing that now. There is no escape pod from this. And we're not doomed, either. I'm alive and I'm taking the fight to them this time." He smiled a little and hoped she got his reference: "I'm going to put my fist through this whole lousy Order before I'm through."

Her lips quirked. She got it. "'Don't run away when it gets hard,'" she paraphrased her sister's words of wisdom and breathed out heavily. "Okay … I'm in."

"In? In what?"

Her expression sobered, then she smiled again. "In _this_, silly. If it's such a good idea, then I'm doing it, too!"

"What?" He felt befuddled. "Do you mean … joining the Order?" She'd argued against it so much. She hadn't exactly seen the best they had to offer. "Really?"

She looked terrified, but she nodded. "Really."

He gathered her up again, the wetness in his eyes spilling over to streak his cheeks. "I thought I was going to have to do this alone," he said, finding himself choked up as well. And while he was willing to do it all himself, he hadn't wanted to.

"No," she said, pushing him back a little and shaking her head. "I'm with you." She looked at his eyes, touching the tear track from one of them and then kissing him fiercely. He kissed back, feeling a thrill run through him – love and desire and a precious feeling of intense … cherishing.

He wasn't sure what it was, but it was like he'd finally found someone who cared about him for him – not what he could do for them like the First Order or the simple common decency of the galaxy like Rey. No, Rose was with him on a deeper level. She wouldn't smile and wish him well on a new adventure – instead she'd go with him if she could. It was a different kind of love. It was the kind of love he wanted.

He pulled her over on top of him, holding her tight. She made a squeak and carefully arranged her legs to straddle him. "It's fine," Finn told her. "Whatever she packed the incision site with is good stuff. It barely hurts at all."

"Well, I'm going to be careful anyway," Rose told him, then kissed him with abandon. He groaned and ran his hands up and down her sides, then over her rear end. She was still wearing that officer's uniform Kaydel had acquired from the shuttle's stocks. He bridged his hips up into her, miming sex because it felt good. She hummed and ground herself against him, despite the layers of cloth between them. Her elbows were on either side of his head. His hands had settled on her waist, guiding her hips in what felt best.

"Um," she said, stopping abruptly after a few minutes of enjoying each other.

"What?" He'd really been getting into it.

"You … Oh." She sounded pleased. Rose reached between them, running her hand down his shirt, where it had ridden up over his belly, and then as she leaned back, to the front of his pants.

He blinked as he realized what was different. "What- what is that?" He sat up suddenly, cupping himself. He had a tumor. He had something wrong with himself. No - he had an _erection_. She dismounted at his urging. He pulled down his pants to see his rapidly wilting hard-on. He stared at it in disbelief. "How …?"

She shrugged. "Maybe it just took a while to warm up."

He touched himself, then took his flaccid penis in hand and stroked at it awkwardly. "Is this how it works? I want that back. I want to use it with you," he said eagerly, then asked, "I mean, do you want me to?"

"Yes, yes!" She shifted forward and replaced his hand with hers. "Does this feel good?" She pumped at him slowly, but he was still soft.

Finn let his head flop back on the bed and shivered a little. "Yes." It felt wonderful – actually stimulating for once in his life and not just weird and uncomfortable.

"Then let's go back to doing what made it happen to start with." She let go of him and undressed quickly.

He followed her lead, needing her help to get his boots off. As she settled over him on the bed, she asked saucily, "What was that, exactly?"

He looked up at her and said, "You're beautiful." She smiled, dimples forming. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. You're perfect. I love you." She came forward and kissed him. He ran his fingers through her hair and his lips over her cheeks.

She gasped and started rocking her hips into him. He let his hands drift down her sides again – smooth, bare skin now. He pressed up into her. He could feel her curly pubes rasping against his lower abdomen. And he could also feel … he was getting hard again. He went back to kissing her mouth, one hand on her hip and the other cupping her breast, kneading it as she flexed her body eagerly against his.

She moaned and he sent his hand down further, between them. He straightened himself, then rubbed over her mound, massaging it lightly. She lifted herself, giving him room to work. He dipped his fingers into her and felt her jerk against his hand.

She touched his shaft, pumping at it a few times. He wasn't sure if that was a signal – it seemed to be, and he thought he was hard enough. His dick felt like a strange weight, heavier than normal, and with the most pleasant, teasing ache to it. He rolled his hips and she helped him with aim, which was good, because this was different than finding the right spot with his hands.

He felt her wetness against his tip and then the pressure and heat and slick as she settled back. He sunk in and she moaned again. "Oh! Oh wow," she said, "Oh!" His hips bucked upward and she followed the motion down. He was fully seated within her.

His eyes rolled back in his head for a moment. He made a tentative thrust. It felt awesome. And right. So perfectly right. "Fuck," he whispered.

She nodded, grinning for a moment, and then leaned forward over him. "Are you okay? I mean, nothing hurts, right? You're healed?"

"Enough for this." He rolled his hips again and again, feeling himself slide in and out and against her channel. His injuries were the last thing he wanted to think about right now.

She rocked her hips against him, thrusting in counterpoint. He took hold of her hips, fucking into her harder. It felt like everything was spinning away into ecstasy. He was floating or flying. She was calling out with each thrust. He pulled her down and kissed her hard, swallowing her cries and pistoning into her. He felt her tighten around him like she had when he used his hands on her.

Her moans had turned to whimpers when he let go her mouth. He had to. He needed to breathe, to concentrate, something …? His awareness seemed to narrow to the hot burst of pleasure that shot through his groin, again and again in fading surges as his thrusts weakened. He could breathe again. He panted, sagging against the mattress. He felt … tired. Spent. And so content.

Sluggishly, he said, "I like that."

She bent to kiss his sweaty forehead. "We'll probably be able to sleep now."


	120. Rey 13

[Rey]

* * *

"Hm," she said, giving Kylo a tight smile. Sensations and impressions that didn't belong to either of them flowed across her skin.

"I feel it, too," he said, giving her a displeased look right back. They were sitting together on the bed, facing one another for standard meditation. Tentatively, they'd opened themselves to the Force after being overtaxed in the battle against Sidious. And, well, dying. Luke was right – they needed to cut that out if they wanted to actually have a life with one another.

She tried to ignore the unexpected feelings through the bond and shove them to a far corner of her mind. The only way to do it completely was to withdraw from her awareness of the Force itself. For now, that's what she did. "I don't think we did the bond right."

He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it. He couldn't argue.

Rey said, "Do you think it's possible Snoke did the same-"

"No. Snoke was not bonded to us in any way."

"I _felt_ him die."

"He was a powerful Force user. You were meters from him. Of course, you felt it."

That was a point. She'd felt Luke die, as well. She hardly knew him and he'd been half the galaxy away, so maybe feeling or not feeling someone die meant nothing. "But you felt it, too, right? Did it feel … normal?"

"He was my mentor. Yes. I felt it. He wasn't part of our bond." He grumbled the last part.

She spoke slowly. "Is that because you don't want to think that he was, or …" He grimaced at her. She went on, changing tack, "If the information in the holocron was true and you can only sever a bond by killing your bondmate, then what was done to Snoke qualifies. Fully."

"I've given him …" Kylo started, then changed to, "He had enough from me. He doesn't get this. I know he started it, but what we had, what we _have_, is between _us_. He was never part of it. Nothing else matters."

"Okay." He wanted to believe that. Clearly. And so vehemently that she couldn't help but think denial was playing a big role in what he was saying. But if Kylo wanted to insist Snoke hadn't eavesdropped on what he had with her, then so be it. "Maybe he didn't do it that way. But apparently _we_ did with Poe and Hux."

Kylo rolled his eyes. "We just have to shut them out. It's not that hard, when we're talking about short periods."

"Okay, so we shut out the sex. But what about everything else? We're going to feel them. Sometimes, they'll feel us. We're linked. To them, now, apparently." As well as to each other. The simple bridge between pairs had gone wrong. They were now a … quad.

Kylo deliberately tensed and relaxed his whole body in a calming exercise. "It wasn't … intentional."

Her voice softened. "I know that." She went to him, shifting to sit next to him on the bed. There was no reason to keep the meditation pose, so she folded her legs beneath her. "I know that," she repeated. She put his hand on her knee. He sighed and relaxed for real, giving up the formality of meditation.

"Armitage Hux," he said drearily. "Poe Dameron. Those two." He expelled air in a huff, looking away.

"Look at it this way," she said, "they'll keep us grounded. In the world as it really is and not this … Force stuff."

He gave her a sideways look. "We're not going to follow the honored Jedi tradition of hermitage? I hear there are vacancies on Ach-to."

She laughed lightly. "Yes, there are. But … no. I don't want to be alone in the wilderness. Not in the desert. Not on an island. Not on the forests of Takodana or … wherever else."

"The swamps of Dagobah," he said. "That would complete the poetry."

"You do poetry?" She laid her hand over his where it still rested on her knee.

He moved his fingers, shifting the fabric and her hand. "I do calligraphy. Or at least, I used to."

"What's …" Even though he'd just said the word, she wasn't sure how to pronounce it. "That?"

"The art of manual writing. With a hand stylus. It's how the Jedi texts were written."

"Oh. Okay. Cowl-what?"

He said it carefully: "Calligraphy."

"Calligraphy. How is that different from hand-writing?"

"There's an art to it."

"You'll have to show me sometime." She curled her hand around his.

"I will. And you'll have to show me how to sew."

"What?" He didn't know how to sew?

"As long as we're discussing odd hobbies."

"Don't you … know? Just from knowing my past?" Or from being a person. But she didn't ask that. How privileged did one have to be to not have to know how to stitch things together? Or was it that Jakku was just that primitive?

He shook his head. "I know you can do it. But just because I know you understand Crogill doesn't mean I do."

"Hopefully, you'll never need to know it," she said of Unkar Plutt's native language. She was far from fluent, but she understood the basics. Her tone was bitter.

"I could kill him for you," Kylo said softly. "Plutt."

She looked up at him in surprise. He was completely serious. In an instant, she imagined a galaxy where her foremost abuser for the last thirteen years no longer existed. Where Kylo did for her what he'd done for himself with Snoke. Unkar was evil – of that she had no doubt – but maybe no more than Hux. Maybe they could find a way to change things even on Jakku so people like Unkar weren't free to oppress and extort others. Killing him wasn't the answer. "Don't." But it was still one of the nicest things anyone had ever offered her. She kissed him.

"All you have to do is ask, sweetheart."

For a kiss or to kill Unkar? She supposed it didn't matter. She looped her hands around his neck. "Oh. I should ask?" she said archly. "Without reading my mind, however else would you know what I want?"

He studied her, eyes darting between hers. "I know what you want." His voice was husky. He tried to kiss her back, his lips searching after hers as she playfully avoided him. "I've known what you wanted from the start." He surprised her, capturing the back of her head with his free hand and kissing her soundly before she twisted away. She might have been angry and would have been had he continued in that vein, but the emotion vanished before it started when he said instead, "I'm not leaving. I'll stay with you forever."

Forever. Even without the Force, she knew it was the truth. He would follow her to hell and back. He already had. She'd been a fool to doubt him, to test him. But she would have been a fool had she not. She kissed him, passionately and fully. He groaned and sank into it, his mouth enveloping hers. He was so big. Everywhere. Or at least, everywhere she'd seen so far.

She fell back to the bed and pulled him over her, wriggling to get under him. He kept kissing her – her mouth, her cheek, her chin, and then her neck like he was hungry to get his lips on every inch of her he could. She arched against him. Yes, she was pretty sure he was big _everywhere_.

"We have too many clothes on," she told him, pushing him off her so she could rectify that. He simply watched her with an amused, pleased expression until she said, "Take off your clothes!" He hurried to comply.

She was done before he was and took the opportunity to look at him in turn. He was broad, his skin peppered with small moles and scarred in places. Although his wounds from Starkiller Base had no doubt been treated with the best the First Order had to offer, the marks were still visible. Most of them were ones she'd left on him. They showed not only as lines and discolorations on his skin, but as subtle indentations and interruptions of the otherwise smooth lines of his musculature.

He'd seen her looking. She realized he was posing for her, having drawn himself up and trying not to look too smug about it. He wasn't succeeding. She grinned and said, "Come here." She laid back against the bed and propped herself up on her elbows, gesturing for him to join her.

He did, a little of his self-assurance fading as he climbed over her. It told her he wasn't reading her mind or using the Force any more than she was. While it was probably just to make sure whatever Poe and Hux were doing didn't disturb their own moment, Rey liked, by itself, that they had their own moment between one another as normal people instead of luminous beings of the supernatural variety.

Because what they were about to do was all about base, crude matter.

She wrapped her legs around his waist as he crawled above her. She drew his face down for a kiss. It was long, slower and deeper this time, more focused on both their parts. As it went on, she began rocking her hips against him. His erection was between them, pressing along the front of her sex. She could feel its heat as she rubbed herself up and down on it. Kylo shuddered and gasped against her mouth.

When they finally parted for air, Kylo looked glassy-eyed and for a moment she wondered if he might lose it right then. It seemed … sudden? Short? But then he scooted down, moving his groin away from hers and putting his mouth to her breast. That, too, was sudden, but in a different way. "Ah!" she called out, arching again. He held her down, sucking and working her. He propped himself up on an elbow, reaching down with his other hand to cup her mound and explore her with his fingers.

She whimpered and spread her legs, squirming at every suckle and touch. One of her thighs was trapped beneath the weight of his body. The other was bent and splayed, opening herself to him. She twitched as he found her clitoris, jerking again as he came back to it when he realized her reaction. "Mm," he hummed as he sucked at her. She wanted him so badly.

She was trembling when his fingers dipped lower, finding her entrance and probing gently. His fingers were so big. Thick. She was wet and his fingertip skated along her folds, taking his time about it. She was so desperate for him. She whimpered, arching upward as if she might shove her hips onto his hand. He tried his teeth on her nipple, tugging at it, as he finally pressed inside her. She was so wound up she came immediately upon his first penetration. She gasped as she spasmed. He pumped his finger in and out, slowly, humming in satisfaction as he did so. She finally pulled away from him as it became too much. He let her go.

He looked down at her with concern and uncertainty. She was panting. As soon as he'd stopped, she wanted more. Her body, her drive, ever so contradictory. She told him, "You said you could take whatever you wanted." The concern faded in his face. "Take _me_."

He kissed her again, his lips demanding and hers pliant, still high on the orgasm. He settled between her legs. They couldn't kiss while fucking in this position – he was too tall, she too short. But from where they were, she could feel the tip of him against her. She shuffled down as much as she could without losing the kiss and wriggled her hips side to side, working the head of his cock against her entrance.

He tucked his hips to give her a few extra centimeters. He groaned softly into her mouth as she forced herself down on him. This time it worked. She could feel him parting her body, opening her far beyond what she'd done with her own fingers or he with his. It was bigger than anything she'd ever put in herself.

She was drunk on desire. She wanted him – inside her, over her, smothering her and taking her – a lifetime of being with him in every way possible. She gasped as she pressed down, her lips leaving his as the head of his cock pressed entirely inside her. Kylo was breathing in short, ragged bursts. He was very still, holding the weight of his upper body on his elbows and making only the tiniest motions with his hips.

She was so aroused, feeling him shift slightly inside her with each wriggle of their bodies. Just the idea of him being inside her was sending her flying … almost. She tried bridging up, but it didn't help. She couldn't get further down. She made a frustrated, helpless noise and shoved on him. He was just … not moving!

With a faint, rumbling growl, he gave one solid, thorough roll of his hips. His length slid and pressed into her, nearly half the thing altogether. Her next sound was choked, yet ecstatic. That was exactly what she wanted. Her body felt like it lit up, every nerve alight as he moved within her. She could feel the slight soreness where he'd bitten and suckled her breast. Her lips tingled from their kisses. He was breathing into her hair. His weight was against her hips, pinning her, pushing against her again now and again. He was thrusting, jerkily at first and then smoother, harder, fucking her for real now.

She was coming almost immediately, her body spasming around him as he drove into her deeper and impossibly deeper. His breathing was ragged again. He finally let go, hammering into her so hard that she saw stars, the orgasm prolonged, and she cried out in passion as his entire length sheathed again and again inside her. He released with a guttural noise.

Her knees had been tight on either side of his hips. They fell open now as all the tension fled from her. She felt so filled. So fulfilled. So full. And dripping. He made several slow, relaxed thrusts within her that felt right at the edge of overstimulation, before pulling out to kiss her. They kissed languorously. She pushed him to the side and curled up in his arms, reaching back to flip a blanket over them. She had a family now, someone to be with her forever, someone she wanted to share herself with. She belonged.


	121. Hux 28

[Hux]

* * *

He woke and rubbed at gritty eyes. He felt Poe's attention, just as he had in the detention center corridor. It was vaguely akin to having Kylo Ren or Snoke in his mind, but less 'foreign'. He wasn't sure if he should find that even more unsettling, but so far it seemed benign and it wasn't like he knew how to stop it even if it wasn't. Not that he wanted to stop it.

The feel was different this time – less eager anticipation than it had been the previous night and more … marveling. He lowered the loose fist of his hand to see Poe was watching him. He felt his cheeks heat at the positive attention, but he held his place and for a long moment, they just looked at each other. His _husband_. Hux didn't know what his own expression said, but Poe looked content, with his eyes roaming steadily over Hux's features. It was amazing, but Poe really seemed to like him.

Poe had a sense of satisfaction between them. That was good. Hux reached out, touching lightly over Poe's lips. He liked them. They were soft and expressive. They parted for him, but he pulled his hand away. He scooted forward, kissing those lips more briefly than he'd intended because something unpleasant had just happened. "I must clean up. I have just moved onto something wet and cold."

Poe smiled tightly. "That happens."

"And it will happen again." Hux hesitated long enough to see Poe's reassuring nod. Then he gave him another quick smooch before climbing over him to get out of bed on Poe's side, which was nearer the refresher. It might have been easier to go the other way, but it would have lacked the 'climbing over Poe' part. This was more efficient anyway, or so he told himself. He stripped off his socks, which he hadn't done earlier in the rush to get in bed. He'd been wearing them for most of a week. He'd showered on the shuttle a few times, but there had been nothing to do about clothing.

Poe was lying on the bed when Hux turned on the shower and entered it. But Hux had done no more than wash his face before Poe was edging inside with him, saying, "Hey, this thing's big enough for two." Which was only true if they were very friendly, but the time to claim they were anything else had passed. Still, Hux's brows drew together in displeasure when Poe took the washcloth from him. "Just hang on," Poe said softly.

He resoaped the cloth and lifted Hux's chin, cleaning his neck carefully. "I think I got you somewhere around here."

Hux snorted. "Maybe I intended to keep it as a badge of honor."

Poe grinned suddenly and it was like a jolt of caf after a long night. The happiness was contagious. Hux shifted his weight, rubbing his fingers together at the unfamiliar sensation, even though there was nothing tactile about it. It felt more like it was a buzzing in his chest than in his hands. Poe said, "Yeah, well, I'll give you another sometime, if you like it that much."

Poe didn't stop at his neck. He lathered Hux's chest and stomach, then before Hux's nerves about him going lower coalesced into an objection, Poe switched to his arms. He worked down each in turn, careful and attentive, washing even the individual fingers. Hux relaxed, though he didn't understand why Poe was doing this. He considered leaning against the wall of the shower, the better to sneer down at Poe for … servicing him?, but then Poe directed him, "Turn around."

"You're being thorough," Hux observed, complying.

Poe scrubbed and wiped. "Oh, you just wait."

A thrill of anticipation went through him. Maybe the idea of being serviced wasn't so far-fetched after all. He'd provided the blowjob the night before with the expectation that he'd be playing a subordinate role in any sexual activities between them. Of course, all Poe was doing was washing him at the moment. Poe finished his back and dropped to his knees, facing Hux's backside.

At first, he cleaned the same way he had other areas, then he kissed him on a butt cheek. Ah, so that was it. Hux reached back to touch the side of his face, looking over his shoulder to see the top of Poe's head, trying to indicate that he was agreeable to whatever Poe wanted to do with him. Poe kissed him again, kneading his cheeks. More than just agreeable - it was arousing. He spread his legs a little and Poe slid a soapy hand up the V of his thighs.

Hux made a noise involuntarily and put his forehead to the shower wall. He already had his hands on it. That was more than just 'arousing'.

"You like this?" Poe asked, rubbing lightly up and down his seam and the inside of his thighs.

"How am I to know?"

Poe's voice turned dryly amused. "You're the one feeling it. That's how."

"I thought you meant anal sex."

Poe ran his thumb or a finger between his cheeks, making deep skin contact all the way up. Hux made a semi-strangled noise and came up on his toes before sinking back down, panting at the intensity of it. Poe said softly, "All I mean right now is what I'm doing. Do you like this?"

"Can't you tell?" Poe had to be getting as much weird emotional resonance as Hux. Aside from that, wasn't his physical response obvious?

"I'm getting a lot of feedback. I need to hear words."

"Yes." It was breathy. Poe was being careful. It was so unnecessary, but sweet. He was so grateful Poe wasn't taking advantage of him. He hadn't even had to threaten him.

"Then I'll definitely do more of that in future." Poe did it a few more times, until Hux's fingers were making clutching motions against the wall. Poe kissed him again and left off, working his way down Hux's legs. "Turn around and give me a foot."

Hux did, bracing himself on the shower wall. It was cool against his shoulder blades and gave him a moment to adjust to all these unexpected inputs. He wasn't sneering down at him now, even though Poe was on his knees. Poe cupped his heel with one hand and ran the washcloth between the toes, one at a time, taking it slow. When he switched feet, Hux asked, "Is this a normal custom for newlyweds in the part of the galaxy you grew up in?"

"Something like this." Poe bent and kissed the top of his foot after rinsing it in the spray. "Does the First Order have honeymoons?"

Hux was familiar with the term. "Not exactly. We have TED and most use that."

"Ted?"

"Tee Ee Dee. Time Excused from Duties."

"Ah." Poe put the foot down and scrubbed the front of each shin, then the knees. Hux was still leaned against the wall, watching through hooded eyes as Poe worked his way up. He was sure of where Poe was going with this, and no longer opposed to it as he had been right at the start. Hux breathed out a soft groan when Poe reached his groin. The apprehension he'd felt before had transformed into anticipation. Poe resoaped the cloth and lathered him thoroughly.

"Are you doing this because I'm filthy otherwise or just …?" He hadn't asked for this subordination, but here it was anyway. There had to be another reason for it. Poe wasn't groveling in any way.

"I'm getting to know you," Poe said. He kissed one of Hux's hips. "And worshipping at the shrine of your body." He slid the cloth and his hand between Hux's thighs, requiring him to step apart as he worked them upward along one side and then the other of his balls.

Hux made a shuddering exhalation. He wondered if the mental link between them was enhancing this somehow. People raved stupidly about sex anyway, but this seemed a step further than even that. "Is that not a blasphemy of some kind?" he managed to say.

"Not if you venerate people and how the force of life moves through them." He fondled Hux's testicles, rolling them in his hand, wiping them down with the washcloth, and then rolling them again as the water streamed down over him.

Hux's penis was more than half-erect. Poe dropped the cloth and took Hux's organ in hand. Carefully, gently, he pressed his fingertip under the foreskin, rubbing in a slow arc and tipping it up to catch the spray. He rinsed it, then made an o-shape with his thumb and forefinger and smoothed the foreskin back off the head. Hux shuddered again and swallowed, watching silently.

Poe handled him a bit more, pulling, rinsing, and examining until Hux was basically hard. Poe put the tip of his finger against Hux's slit and rubbed a small circle over it. He looked up and met Hux's eyes. Hux held his gaze as Poe's hand dropped and he leaned forward to replace that finger with the tip of his tongue. Hux made a helpless noise and let his head fall back against the shower wall. If anyone was surrendering here, it was him. Poe stuck out his tongue and used his hand to move Hux's shaft and head over it, rubbing it across his tongue rather than lapping at him.

Poe's eyes slid shut as his lips sealed over Hux's shaft. He began to suck. Hux mewled. He put a hand into Poe's hair, making a fist but doing nothing else with it. Poe sucked in a leisurely fashion, like he was content to take all the time in the world. Hux felt like he was going to blow any second. "I'm … I'm going to come."

"Mmm," Poe hummed in a drawn out way. He played with Hux's balls with one hand and used a light grip to pump with the other. He didn't change anything after Hux's declaration – he just kept bobbing slowly, sucking consistently, and fondling him. Hux whimpered. He'd been wrong apparently, because he didn't come right away. He instead teetered on the edge of orgasm, pushed slowly – so slowly – over the edge by Poe's indolent ministrations. It gave him the longest, most drawn out orgasm he'd ever had. When he finally came, it was a relief, but even then Poe just kept licking and sucking and swallowing until he was drained dry and a sob caught in his throat.

Right before it became too much, Poe stopped. He pulled off and buried his face in Hux's pubic hair. He dropped one hand to his own shaft and started pumping. The other snaked around Hux's behind and pressed his fingers into the crack of his ass, gripping him invasively and possessively. It was firm enough to pull his cheeks apart and expose him. Hux could feel Poe's breath on his groin alternately hot and cool as he huffed against him and breathed him in. Poe gasped and grunted, jerking a little as he came.

He suspected his shoddy understanding of sexual dynamics, formed mostly from overheard gossip and rumor that he'd paid little attention to, could stand to be re-evaluated in the face of actual practice. Hux slid down the wall to sit on the floor, water still raining down on both of them. He moved some of Poe's hair out of his face, sensing an emotion there Hux didn't dare to name. "This feels so unearned."

"Love isn't earned," Poe said, with absolutely no compunctions about labeling it. Hux swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. Poe put his hand in the water, letting it rinse it clean. "Even if it was, you kicked the ass of the most powerful Sith in the galaxy this morning. I think most people would agree that deserves some congratulations."

"I couldn't have done it without you." Poe smiled at him and touched his chin. "You look very smug," Hux told him. He felt smug, too. And satisfied. So satisfied that Hux couldn't hold it against him, because he was satisfied with _Hux_.

"My plan to save the galaxy worked. I think I'm allowed."

"And now that the galaxy is saved?"

"I am never letting you go." Poe twitched a little like he had second thoughts. He added hurriedly, "I mean, I love you. I want to stay with you. I-"

Hux put a hand on his arm. "This has the air of a correction. You said nothing that offends me."

"Saying something like that is considered a little rude where I come from," Poe murmured. More normally, he said, "Hang on." He got to his feet. "I have something for you. It says the same thing, but not rude." Poe let himself out of the shower.

Hux rose as well, rinsed a final time, and left to dry. By then, Poe had dried off and came back with a necklace – a chain with a single ring in pendant on it. He put it over Hux's head with some degree of ceremony. Poe said, "This is a custom from the part of the galaxy I grew up in – the exchange of rings. This is mine. My mother wore it for her marriage to my father. She passed away when I was a kid."

Hux lifted it and looked at it. It was plain and silver-colored, probably durasteel but that was impossible to tell just from looking at it. He felt a pang of empathy for losing one's mother young. "Do you remember her?"

Poe nodded. "I was eight. You'll probably need to get that sized. I would like one from you."

"In exchange?"

"Yes."

"You realize I don't have one at the moment?" He felt guilty for being unprepared, even though it was a ridiculous thing to be prepared for. Maybe it was normal for people where Poe came from to carry around a wedding token for years, just waiting for the opportunity to give it to someone.

"Yes, I fully realize that." Poe smiled at him like he was a bit dense, but Poe didn't mind. "When you get one, I'll wear it. You'll wear that one. This finger." He touched the finger in question. "That's how we tell everyone we're together."

Hux nodded. He was aware of wedding bands and their customary location, though he hadn't known when people got them or what the ritual was. He just knew they wore them, similar to how he knew what a honeymoon was – it was a definition he'd learned and no more. "Would you like my rock in the meantime?" Poe blinked at him and he wondered if that wasn't an appropriate counter offer. "It's the only thing I have right now that's mine." He let the ring fall to his chest. "If I have misunderstood the custom-"

"No, that's fine," Poe cut in. "Is there a story behind it? I mean, does it mean something to you?"

Hux smiled a little. "It's not a romantic story, but it does mean something to me."

"Want to tell me about it?"

Hux looked past him at the bed. "It involves my father. I would rather not tell it at the moment."

"That's okay. Tomorrow, then."

"Tomorrow. I'll get the fresh sheets if you can start removing the others."

"Sure thing."


	122. Tracer

[Tracer]

* * *

DL-1364 watched Finn and Commander Tico leave for his surgery. Soon someone would come for FO-1282 (Spots) for hers. She turned to see Spots looking after them as well. Her expression – was it wistful? DL-1364 didn't know. There were many reasons why it might be. "Don't join the Resistance," DL-1364 warned her.

"Why not?" Spots said dully, still watching the far door. Finn had told them the story of his defection and his reasons behind it. It had been Major asking most of the questions, but DL-1364 had seen how carefully Spots listened. Her ears gave her away.

"Because they fight the First Order and to fight the Order is to die."

Spots sighed. "I don't even know how I would." She paused to glance over at Major where he laid in the next bed.

He looked at the both of them, seeming more relaxed than DL-1364 had seen him to date. She didn't think they'd given him any sedatives. He said, "You shouldn't be talking like that," but his tone was mild.

"What's your deal, anyway?" Spots asked him.

"He's a stickler for the rules," DL-1364 answered for him.

"You're a specialist," Spots said, still addressing him. "Why did you ask to be called a rank you don't have if you care about the rules so much?"

He smirked as he rolled to his back, watching the ceiling as he pressed on the bandage on his chest. "I didn't _ask_ to be called Major."

"'Major pain in the ass,' I was told," DL-1364 said. Spots had only joined them after the attack of the _Finalizer_. She didn't know the group or their history – no more than she might have picked up while they were stranded planetside, and with the Resistance all around all the time, the conversations between troopers had rarely been casual.

Major nodded. "Major Pain in the Ass. That's what _they_ called me."

"It's against protocol," Spots said again, but her tone was matter-of-fact instead of accusing. It was more than just against protocol. Impersonating an officer was a serious crime no matter how it happened.

"It is," he said agreeably. "I didn't like the name until now."

"I thought that shot hit you in the chest plate, not the helmet," Spots said.

"We allied with the Resistance," he said, "and fought our own people who thought they were following the emperor's orders." He turned to look at her. "Who was in the right?"

"Uh …" Spots floundered.

"We were," DL-1364 said. "General Hux was in charge after Kylo Ren was deposed. He was confirmed by High Command. Unless they …" She hesitated. "Did they remove him in absen …" There was a word specific to the condition, but she wasn't sure what it was. 'Absence' wasn't right. "Did they remove him while he was gone and confirm Palpatine?"

"I don't know," Major admitted, "but it doesn't matter. They thought they were right – the one who shot me. They were following orders just like we were. Doing what they thought they were supposed to do. We were both right. Maybe between General Hux and Emperor Palpatine – one of them was right and one was wrong – but the rest of us? We were right on both sides."

"The Resistance wasn't right," DL-1364 said. "Allied with us or not, they're still the Resistance."

"Not anymore," Spots said. "You heard Finn. He's rejoining."

"He told me I needed to keep an open mind," Major said. "What if the people in the Resistance thought they were doing the right thing, too? _He_ obviously thinks that."

DL-1364 shrugged in annoyance. "Of course they did. But it doesn't matter. As long as they're against us, we have to fight them and they're going to die. So no joining them." She looked back to Spots, who didn't answer.

"We don't have to fight them," Major pointed out, "if they join us. Maybe Finn won't be the only one. What's Dameron going to do?" DL-1364 and Spots looked at each other, then back at Major. Neither had an answer for that. Major went on, "Do you think he's going to leave the general? He ran out into that hangar bay full of blaster bolts to get to him."

"And they kissed," DL-1364 said.

Major hesitated, then said, "Yeah, a little, on the planet. I'm sure they might have when he got to him in the hangar."

"No, really kissed," she clarified. "In front of everyone. _After_ the hangar bay. You were unconscious."

Major looked at Spots, who pointed at her knee. "I was … my leg. I didn't pay attention."

"They did," DL-1364 insisted. "A lot. Fully."

"Okay," Major said. "That's what I mean. He's not going to stay part of the Resistance. Maybe none of them will."

"How much Resistance is left?" DL-1364 asked.

"I don't know," Major said. "How many did we shoot down over Crait?"

"Most of them," she answered. "At least, that's what I heard. I was at my duty station, not gawking at screens." She frowned. "If I'd been gawking at screens with my helmet off like the rest of my squad, then I wouldn't be here. The section decompressed." And they'd died. All of them but her, with her helmet on and seals engaged as they were supposed to be.

"I guess you're a stickler for rules, too," Major said after a moment of respectful silence.

She turned to Spots. "You can't join them. You have to stay with us."

"You heard him, then," Spots said with the tone of an accusation.

"Heard what?" Major said cluelessly. "What'd I say? Or Finn?"

"Yes," DL-1364 said to Spots, ignoring Major. "I heard the alien telling you that they'd take care of you in medbay and find you a job. Both of those have happened. I also heard him telling you to leave us." She hesitated, struggling with the words. "Don't."

"I didn't lose my squad because they were doing what they weren't supposed to," Spots said after a pause. She swallowed. "I lost them because I _wasn't_. They went ahead. I was supposed to be with them. The compartment was flooded, but not much. Just along the floor. I hung back. I don't know why. I'm not afraid of water. Our orders were to assess the damage and report back. Sarge led the way. Then the lights went out, there were flashes and sounds, and they all died. Electrocuted where they stood. I ran."

"Does the lieutenant know?" Major asked.

Spots gave him a long look before saying, "Yes. You shouldn't want me among you. I understand why she didn't do anything on the planet. And maybe when she pulled me into the shuttle she just didn't realize I was hurt. But why would she ask for an exemption for me? Was it because Dameron yelled at her? Did he tell the general and because they're kissing each other he granted it?"

"It wasn't him," DL-1364 said. "It was _her_. Lady. She … talked to me. She told me to stay here and protect you. You saw that. But when it was just me and her, she told me to remember the dead and to fight for them. When have you ever heard someone say something like that?"

The three of them were quiet for a long beat, until Major said, "Finn. He said he defected because Slip died. He had a friend. And his friend died."

DL-1364 confessed haltingly, "My squad … they were my friends." She found herself choking up to admit it.

Spots glanced between the two of them and said, equally carefully, "There were … some in my old squad … who were friends, too."

"Could we be friends?" Major asked.

DL-1364 felt her heart lurch. "Yes," she said. It was a secret pact. Spots nodded as well. DL-1364 said, "Do you still want us to call you Major? Would friends call you that?"

He smiled a little. "Yeah. Because one of these days, it's not going to be against protocol."

DL-1364 smiled back. She thought he was setting his sights too high, but maybe not. They were the general's guards, which opened up a lot of opportunities. Quietly though, very quietly, she said, "My friends … they called me Tracer."


	123. Kaydel 6

[Kaydel]

* * *

It took a moment for Kaydel to realize the weird sound was what passed for a door chime on a star destroyer. She finished cleaning her teeth and stepped out of the refresher. "Um. Come in?" She didn't know if the door responded to voice commands, but it swished open anyway. She saw Lady standing outside, smartly done up in a new and clean officer's uniform. "Oh wow." Kaydel smiled, looking her up and down. "You must be so proud."

Lady pressed her lips together and made half a nod, like she agreed, but maybe it wasn't permitted to say so. Instead she said, "I was asked to report?"

Kaydel had passed on the request the night before to the troopers who had escorted her to the room. It had been easy to say then, but she wondered if things were different now that they weren't stranded in the middle of nowhere. "Oh. Yeah. I just … I didn't know if …" Kaydel paused, chewed her lips briefly, then said, "Would you still like to do my hair?"

"Yes." The answer came immediately. Kaydel fairly bounced out of the way, waving Lady inside. The door swished shut.

"We're the two early risers of the group." Lady didn't answer. She just took the comb Kaydel offered and started to use it after Kaydel took a seat in the only chair in the room. The silence felt awkward, but she suspected Lady didn't mind it, if she even noticed. Kaydel tried again on conversation. "So how are things?"

"Which … things?"

"I saw you with DL-1364," she had only the briefest hesitation with the numbers and letters, "but that was obviously private." She'd been moved by it. And embarrassed, because she hadn't realized stormtroopers had that much compassion for one another. According to Finn, it was ruthlessly trained out of people. Then again, Finn was evidence such training didn't always work.

"It was private?"

"It seemed to be," Kaydel said. "Wasn't it?"

"You were right there."

Kaydel chuckled at what was either a miscommunication or a cultural difference. "Okay, I'll try something else: How did the rest of yesterday go for you, other than DL-1364?"

"It went well." She paused to work on a snarl at the nape of Kaydel's neck. "I've been assigned as personal security for General Hux. The whole section has."

"Oh. Is that normal?"

"Reassignment?"

"No, for a general to have a whole section of guards?"

"Isn't it normal among the New Republic?"

"Well, it was," Kaydel answered. "But not in the Resistance. General Organa has been famously against it." Kaydel said that last with a dry tone. Leia had refused dedicated guards, but agreed to choose her personal staff, like Kaydel, carefully. As such, Kaydel was encouraged to use her judgment freely. She was trusted, and as far as she'd been able to tell, was still trusted even after the mutiny.

"General Hux has also been against it in the past," Lady said. "Part of his speech last week was about how the age of emperors was over and we wouldn't have tyrants who were defended by mystical powers with their personal security forces that set them above the law." She sighed, her breath blowing a few flyaway strands of Kaydel's hair.

"So … he made a speech about not having guards. And now he's assigned you guys as his guards?" She could see the contradiction.

"Yes." Lady did not sound pleased about it.

"You're just regular troopers, though. Not death troopers or imperial guards. He's not … making you into imperial guards, is he?" That was a strange thought – that someone normal with a personality and independent life might end up inside such a suit of black or red armor, outwardly serving no function but to obey. There was something about the mask and imposing uniform that made such people … not people.

"No!" Lady said hurriedly. "We're working more as support staff than guards. It's just … uncertain right now. The High Command is going to meet and-" She fell silent.

"What?"

"I … shouldn't tell you these things."

"Oh. Okay. That's not problem. I understand," Kaydel said, and she did. "There are things I shouldn't tell you about General Leia or the Resistance, too." She tried to change the subject. "But maybe you can tell me more about this 'The age of emperors is over'? He said that in a public speech, right? So you could tell me about it. When was it?"

"It was from his speech before the _Finalizer_ was attacked. A few days ago. That's why he didn't change his rank from general. The mission of the First Order had been fulfilled. It would dissolve once the republic was restored."

"He … he said that?" Kaydel turned in the chair to look at Lady. "He said the First Order would dissolve?" Lady nodded soberly. "And that was _before_ we crashed on that planet together?"

Lady nodded again. "Why is that so strange? He has always said that – throughout the announcements he's given for the last decade – that we would restore peace and justice to the galaxy. And then," she shrugged, "we'd be done."

"What happens to the First Order when you're done? Where are you going?"

"I don't know."

Kaydel stared at Lady, who looked back at her guilelessly. Kaydel did not believe for a moment that the First Order, as an institution, was as innocent and uncomplicated as that. But that this random stormtrooper was? Maybe even most stormtroopers were. And maybe a big percentage of the younger members of the Order, who in recent years (she'd seen the numbers from Moradi's reports) were heavily skewing the average age of the Order downward. Hux wasn't that old, either. Was he this … naïve? She blinked and thought about how obviously he'd fallen for Poe.

Kaydel cleared her throat. It wasn't like she was all that far from being a starry-eyed idealist herself, but working closely with General Organa had taught her a few things. "I thought that was just propaganda."

"There's a lot of that." Lady's brow furrowed and she looked down, thinking. "_I_ think he means it," Lady said finally. "He wouldn't have said it if he didn't mean it."

Kaydel gave a hollow laugh. "You don't know politicians."

"He's not a politician," Lady said defensively. "He's a general. Military, all his life. Grew up in a military academy, just like all the rest of us. We follow orders and we do what we're supposed to. We don't … gather votes or do consensus or whatever." Lady caught herself. "I don't mean to be rude. I shouldn't have said that."

"No, it's okay," Kaydel said quietly. "You believe in him. I hear that. It's important. And it means if he changes direction, then the people who believe in him will probably change, too."

Lady nodded.

Kaydel went on. "I just … think it's important … that the Resistance knows we might be able to have peace talks in good faith." Her mind was working out why they hadn't known this. There had been tons of chatter following Snoke's death, more than a legion of communications specialists could have combed through.

Kaydel had been helping set up a new base and coordinating with the locals, not listening to what she'd assumed would be self-congratulatory speeches about the end of the Resistance and the conquest of the galaxy. It was too hard to listen to in the wake of all the Resistance deaths and their stinging defeat, no matter how many of the Order Holdo had managed to take down. She wondered if Leia had found the time to listen and if it had something to do with why she'd been adamant about piggy-backing an espionage mission onto Kylo and Rey's raid.

"It would be nice to be at peace," Lady said wistfully, playing with Kaydel's hair. It was thoroughly combed out now, smooth and shimmering in a long fall down her back. One of Lady's fingers touched along the top of Kaydel's ear, sliding along it too deliberately to be an accident.

Kaydel shut her eyes for a long moment, enjoying the touch. When she let out her breath, she rose smoothly and turned to face Lady. The woman pulled back her hand guiltily, but paused with the hand held in the air between them as her expression turned uncertain. "Yes," Kaydel said, taking the woman's hand and noting Lady's noisy swallow. Kaydel put the hand to her cheek, palm to her skin. "It _would_ be nice to be at peace."

"I …"

Kaydel let go. Lady's hand stayed where it was for several seconds, doing something that was almost a caress before dropping. She was not a beautiful woman by any stretch of the imagination, but at that moment, she was beautiful to Kaydel. Kaydel said softly, "What happens next?"

Lady's eyes widened slightly. She looked flustered and like the concept of bolting wasn't far from her mind. "Um … breakfast?"

Kaydel smiled. "Okay. Let's get breakfast. Will the rest be there?"

Lady nodded hurriedly and rambled, "Yes. Maybe. I don't know. I'll … have to go check the shift change and make sure relief is available and the duty roster …" She hesitated and resettled herself, breathing out heavily. A little calmer, she asked, "Will you come with me?"

"I'd love to. Just let me twist this stuff up into a bun." She gestured at her hair and let her smile broaden as Lady moved to the door. She'd thought Poe was crazy to go after someone in the Order. But not anymore.


	124. Poe 17

[Poe]

* * *

He woke to the feeling of someone touching the hairs of his forearm. Poe blinked up at Hux, who tensed his lips and looked … not embarrassed. More cautious. Like he'd been caught out but wasn't sure what would happen as a result.

"Mm," Poe made a pleased sound. Hux's expression relaxed. He petted Poe's forearm with his whole hand and not just his fingertips skating along the hairs. "You're an easy face to wake up to," Poe told him.

"Is it just my appearance?"

"No." But he took the moment to savor his looks anyway. Hux's hair was rumpled and feathery without the gel, his skin tone slightly improved by rest and dim lighting. He still had nothing in the way of stubble – the result of some long-lasting chemical application used by the Order, Poe assumed, because he had enough sideburns to show he could grow facial hair. His eyes were clear and attentive – so sharply attentive – even at this point. "I love your attention," Poe said finally.

Hux smiled a little. "You have it."

"You know," Poe said, "even without this Force-marriage thing, I'd still want to be with you. To make this work."

Something shifted in Hux's demeanor. "I want the marriage." His tone was clipped.

"You have it," Poe said, watching as Hux relaxed again. "That's important to you," he said softly, mostly as a note to himself.

"Of course it is."

Poe was left pondering why Hux considered that obvious, along with the emotional intensity that had accompanied his earlier statement. "What does it mean to you?"

"I want it known that you're with me. For you to … admit … we're together." His words hurried on before Poe could say anything to reassure him. "And of course I know you do and you have, but I want it to be official. So your friends in the Resistance know, or imagine – I don't know, that you bear a genuine affection for me. Even if this was only a strategic alliance, I would want to think-"

"It's not a strategic alliance."

Hux hesitated. "It would be a good plan if it were."

Poe sighed a little. He needed to be honest here. "It crossed my mind." Well, that was not entirely honest. "Okay, it's not _only_ a strategic alliance." This was sounding worse and worse. "Okay, listen, if you resigned from the Order and I left the Resistance, I'd still want to be with you and make this work."

"You want me to resign?" Hux gave off a fresh wave of fear, even as his face had half a smirk as an attempt to cover it up.

"No, I did not say that." Poe sighed again, deeper. "I certainly hoped, when I first started flirting with you seriously, that you'd like me and it would help everything. Us – help us, on the Resistance side. So maybe we'd fight less, neither of us would try to strand the other, and come on – you're sexy. I wanted to see if I could get that."

Hux snorted. But he was definitely listening.

Poe stretched a little and appreciated how Hux's eyes flitted over him. "I do bear a 'genuine affection' for you." In a serious voice, Poe added, "And I'll tell that to anyone you want. As officially as you want." He thought for a moment, and said, "I've kind of taken it as a given that I'm going to have to leave the Resistance." He had to laugh at the idea of the opposite – if he might somehow remain a rebel pilot harassing First Order convoys or shooting at TIEs or whatever while being married to their general.

"I do not require it of you." Poe let the humor drop and gave Hux a level look. Seriously? Hux shrugged one shoulder. "I will admit I don't know how we'd function as a couple if you did not." Hux swallowed and glanced away. "I am not leaving the Order."

Not for you. Not for the marriage. That was the way Poe read that. It hurt less than he'd expected, not that any of that statement was a surprise. "That's okay." Poe reached out and touched Hux's forearm, stroking him much as Hux had been doing when Poe had woke. "You made a sacred vow on the grave of the Hosnian system. I think you'll need the Order to fulfill it. So that's a good thing. And aside from that," he cupped his hand around Hux's forearm, "I admire your integrity."

Hux swallowed. "I admire yours. And your loyalty to your friends. I … I thought it was over between us because of that, when we left the planet."

Poe raised his brows and tilted his head. "We'll find a way to make this work." He reached over and touched the ring that dangled against Hux's chest. "On my mother's wedding ring, I swear it."

Hux blinked, his eyes suddenly wet. Embarrassed, he wiped at them with the back of his hand.

There was nothing to be embarrassed about, but Poe changed the subject anyway. "Tell me about the rock."

"The rock?"

"Yeah, the one you had in your quarters as your sole visible sign of individuality. You said there was a story behind it.

"Ah." Hux looked over at where it rested on the nightstand, then back to Poe. "Yes. Well. It's not a romantic story. I mentioned that?"

"Yep." Poe stretched again. This time, Hux touched the side of his chest, fingers skating down his skin a few inches.

Hux gave himself a shake and recovered from being distracted. "Well. I acquired it on a planet where my father had built an early academy for the First Order officers. Or rather, people who would later become such – mostly, the children of the existing officers. There was a beach nearby, just as there was on Arkanis. He located the academy there for that reason."

Hux turned and leaned, picking up the rock before returning to Poe. "When lava solidifies, sometimes it forms basalt, one of the hardest and most durable of the naturally-occurring igneous stones." He raised the rock to show it. Poe regarded it as Hux continued, "As it cools, it crystallizes into a hexagonal columns, sharp-edged and well-defined. Orderly. My father had a speech about it. He had speeches about many things. Anyway, he would show us the stones near the water's edge, where the waves had rolled over them so much that they'd tumbled them smooth."

He rolled the rounded rock around in his hand. "No matter how hard the stone, the water always wins."

Poe looked at the stone in Hux's hand. It didn't seem like much of a story. "Huh."

As though he'd heard Poe's thoughts, Hux said, "My father intended the lesson to be about the need to safeguard against slow, insidious threats eating away our foundation and turning our orderly columns into common stones. And that's what I repeated back to him when he found it next to my bed. He always liked hearing his own words. So he let me keep it." He closed his fist around the rock.

"I often took different lessons from his teachings, however – different than he intended. In this case, it was about the effect of patience and small changes over time. War, vengeance, and suffering forged the First Order from the worst fire the galaxy has ever known. We rose in orderly columns with sharp edges." He opened his hand and offered the stone to Poe. "But we, too, can be worn smooth."

There was the meaning. Or at least, Poe could sense that Hux felt this was important even if he, Poe, didn't entirely get it himself. The guy really didn't like his father. But from what he'd related, Poe didn't like him either. Poe took the rock. "What's this chip on it?"

"I was a child and I gouged it in an experiment born of curiosity. It turns out durasteel is faster than water when you wish to shape something. But to follow the analogy – we need not wait until nature makes the change. It can be forced, but you have to be careful."

Poe nodded. "We're going to be careful. For once in my life, I'm going to do this slow."


	125. Breakfast

[No primary point of view character]

* * *

"Hey," Poe said as Finn rolled into the social room Hux had designated for their breakfast area. Rose walked in after him, looking around the place with interest – there was a lounge with several screens and a holo projector, and several gaming tables in a wing off to the side. Poe continued to Finn, "How's your leg? Did they work on it?"

"Yeah," Finn replied. "They took care of it. The doctor just said to stay off it for a few days."

"Did you get any sleep?"

"Yeah. They did it right away." Finn gestured at his thigh. "She cut it open to the bone. It was gross."

"It was," Rose put in as she came back from her very brief exploration. She moved a chair away from the table so Finn could pull up directly to it. The rest were gathering and choosing seats.

"Are you okay now?" Poe asked as he took a seat to Finn's spot. "Did they do it right?"

"Yeah, I think so. I've been up on it. Taken a few steps. It's sore, but it works."

The rest took their seats at the rectangular table. C'ai, Kylo, Rey, and Chewbacca took one side, Kaydel, Rose, Finn, Poe, and Hux took the other. The droid whirred along behind, offering trays of breakfast brought from whatever cafeteria or commissary was closest. The main dish was composed of spongey yellow curds. It was accompanied by fleshy green tubes that looked like plant stalks cut into cylindrical sections, a puff-roll about the size of a large fist, and a pale orange drink.

The Resistance members evaluated the food. Kaydel asked of the puff-roll, "Is this supposed to have spots?" Chewbacca sniffed at one of the green tubes and made a quizzical trilling noise.

Finn leaned forward a little to watch Hux. A beat later, so did Rose. Hux ate a single yellow curd. Finn told the others, "It's okay, guys. I grew up eating this stuff."

"It _smells_ good," C'ai admitted.

Poe fearlessly shoveled some in his mouth. Chewbacca ate the green tube he was holding. Hux said, "They were supposed to take your species profiles into account, although for some reason they had you listed as a Mon Calamari." He indicated C'ai at the other end of the table, whose tendrils curled in humor.

Kaydel and Rose laughed. Rose flashed C'ai a grin and told the others, "They brought him some kind of seaweed paste for dinner last night!"

C'ai said cheerfully, "It was good!"

Hux said, "I corrected it this morning."

Poe asked conversationally, "Have you ever seen a Mon Calamari? Are there any in the First Order?"

"It's not impossible," Hux said. "There could have been some on imperial ships that formed the Order, but I don't know of any and I've never seen one in person. I've seen them in holos, of course."

Rose said, a little slower and more soberly than her previous talk, "That would be strange for them. Because the Empire came out against them, hard. Mon Cala was one of the foundation worlds in the Rebellion."

"One of the Alliance worlds," Hux said in what was either an unnecessary correction or just an elaboration, since 'Rebel Alliance' had been the correct term. He, too, changed his tone to slower as he continued, "But let us discuss something more pertinent than ancient history. How do we put to rest the dead of the Hosnian system?"

Rose snorted. "It might have helped if you hadn't blown them up to start with!"

Poe winced. Hux looked unaffected.

Kylo said, "It was a boring star system anyway."

Kaydel and Rose both responded with, "What?!"

Kylo shrugged. Chewbacca growled something and Kylo said, "My Dad never said anything like that!" Chewbacca made a careful mimic of human laughter.

Hux said, "Given recent circumstances, I think mocking the dead might be unwise."

Finn said to Hux, "That's a serious question, right, about what to do?"

"Yes," Hux said.

Rose said, "You killed them to start with. Are you even sorry about that?"

"No," Hux snapped. "I am not 'sorry'! It was a military objective. It served its purpose. But now, I've discovered it has complicated things in some mystical, supernatural way!"

"And that's all that matters?" Rose asked. "That it's inconvenient?" Finn gave her a sideways look, but said nothing.

Before Hux could answer, Kaydel said, "I want to talk about this peace you announced to the entire First Order right after Kylo was deposed. What did you mean by that?"

"You declared peace?" Kylo said, huffing a laugh.

Hux looked the table in the direction of Kaydel and Rose, settling on answering Kaydel. "Yes, I declared peace."

"Does the rest of the galaxy agree?" Kylo asked.

"Well, if they don't," Hux said, "we're more than equipped to continue with the alternative!"

"Actually," Poe said, "I seem to remember someone mentioning you lost over two million people at the Battle of Crait. And I know you lost a lot of ships."

Hux said, "The New Republic demilitarized thirty years ago and what military they had was in orbit around Hosnian Prime when we destroyed it. There is no one left to oppose us."

"Good time to declare peace, then," Kylo said, still amused by this.

"You don't do it while you're _losing!_" Hux said angrily.

"Okay, okay," Poe said, putting his hands up in surrender. "Good point, but-"

Rey asked, "Is that all peace means? That no one can oppose you?"

"There will always be opposition," Rose put in. "That's why the Resistance exists!"

Hux sighed. "The Resistance hardly 'exists'. You're _here_-"

"Is that a threat?" C'ai asked.

"It is a statement of fact," Hux said, looking around at the lot of them, then shooting a look the other direction, toward Lt. Lady and the stormtrooper at the door as though considering giving them an order. They came to attention.

There was a moment of quiet as the implicit threat hung in the air and Hux didn't speak. Finn did instead, sounding amused about the whole thing. "Why don't we eat breakfast now, and argue after?"

Kylo crunched loudly on a vegetable stick. Hux looked back to his food. Poe patted Hux's forearm and said, "This stuff's good, but I can't decide if it's supposed to be cheese or eggs."

"It's protein curd. Ahmet-flavored."

"Ahmet," Poe repeated. "What's ahmet?"

"Ahmet," Hux said. "It's an egg dish."

"You mean, an omelet?" Poe said, pronouncing it carefully.

"What's an omelet?" Hux asked, pronouncing it syllable-by-syllable as Poe had.

"An egg dish that tastes like this."

"Oh," Hux said. "It's probably the same thing. We've had thirty years of linguistic drift from the rest of the galaxy."

"So the word changed," Poe said, "but not the taste?"

Hux shrugged. "The taste is programmed."

"But wouldn't the name for it be programmed just the same?"

"It probably is," Hux said. "We're only pronouncing it differently."

"Yeah," Poe said. "There's definitely an accent." To himself, he said with a huffed laugh, "Ahmet."

They ate quietly for a moment before Kaydel said, "You 'declared' peace. Do you want actual peace or just in name?"

Rose muttered to her, "We should drop it. Peace only on the First Order's terms isn't peace at all."

"No," Kaydel answered her. "They might be serious. We at least have to ask."

Rose muttered something else less understandable. Hux said, "Actual peace. But this matter with the dead is more pressing."

"Is it?" Kaydel looked confused.

Rey said, "Oh. We didn't mention that."

"Mention what?" Kaydel asked.

Hux sighed. Poe leaned forward to speak down the table. "So. Um, you remember the part where he said that Sidious reformed due to the wound in the Force caused by destroying the Hosnian system?" He hooked a thumb at Hux. Kaydel nodded. "All of those life forces, ended too soon, were backing Sidious because they wanted … whatever they wanted. But Hux promised to give them peace – resolution or something, and I guess they wanted it, because they abandoned Sidious. That's how we defeated him."

Kylo gave Poe a perplexed look, then shook his head with an exasperated sigh. He took a mouthful of curds.

"What?" Poe asked. "Isn't that right? I was in the loop on this. I was there. Sort of. As much as you were."

"It's right enough," Rey allowed.

Chewbacca said something complex. "Another form of peace," Kaydel said as though agreeing with him.

"I don't understand him," Hux said.

Poe said, "He said everyone wants peace."

"It sounded like he said a lot more than that," Hux said.

Poe shrugged helplessly. Chewbacca looked to Hux, who sat directly across from him at the table. The Wookiee made a single noise like a yap and then mimicked a human laugh again.

"Is he laughing at me?" Hux asked, though it was obvious Chewbacca was. Poe covered his mouth and then avoided answering by taking another bite of his puff-roll.

"He laughed at me earlier," Kylo said blandly.

C'ai said, "What he said originally, in a more precise translation, was that the people of Hosnia wanted peace just like everyone in the galaxy wants peace, along with opportunity and if not opportunity, then at least advantage. Without the opportunity for improvement, people will seek advantage over others, thus fueling the cycle of conflict."

Poe choked down his food quickly to say, "Okay, that's more than I even understood."

Chewbacca looked at Poe said something else, short and pointed. Poe scoffed. "Call me illiterate? Ha."

"You _are_," Kylo said quietly.

"Shut up." Poe's tone was harder than it should have been. Hux's eyes darted between the two of them. Kylo glanced up at Poe, then went back to eating. But he said no more of it.

They ate quietly for a long beat. Kaydel leaned out again to see Hux and said, "I don't know if any of us know what to do about the dead, but as far as the galaxy goes, do you have a plan?"

"A plan?" Hux said. "For what? The conquest is over."

"Peace," she said patiently.

He bared his teeth slightly and snapped, "I've been _busy_. No, I don't have a 'plan' yet! Those of my support staff who survived the attack were tortured to death a few days ago."

"We'll do that next," Kylo said quietly.

"Do what?" Rose asked.

"Stay out of my head," Hux snarled.

"You think so loudly," Kylo complained.

"That's no excuse!" Hux said.

"I didn't hear him," Poe said.

"Why would you?" Rose asked.

"Eh …" Poe opened his mouth, but only made that noise before shutting it again. Rey sighed. Poe tried again. "Okay, well, another thing … to get rid of Sidious, Rey and Kylo made a bond in the Force between … well, Hux and I."

"We're married," Hux said off-handedly.

"You're," Rose blinked at them, "married? Like, now? Already? This was just yesterday."

Finn said quietly, "In the First Order, marriages are pretty quick. It's just-"

"Yeah," Poe cut in, "we're married. Just like you guys." He gestured at Rey and Kylo with a wicked smile.

"You guys are married?" Rose asked, turning to them.

"No!" Rey blurted. "We're not!"

"Not yet, at least," Kylo said.

Hux snorted. "Well, you are now. I wrote you in the log that way."

Kylo shrugged. Rey looked offended. "You can just _do_ that?"

Hux gave her an outraged look. "_You_ married me to _him_ yesterday! At least he was considerate enough to ask, even if it was after the fact!"

Poe cut in, "But wait a second, I'm confused here. How are you two not married? You're bonded."

"Sharing a bond doesn't mean you're married," Rey said.

"But you told me it _did_," Poe insisted.

Hux glanced at Poe nervously, then at Rey and Kylo. "We're not married?"

"You said yes," Poe said to him quickly.

Hux gave himself a shake. "And I logged it. So we're married. Regardless."

"Right," Poe said staunchly.

"Good." Hux nodded.

Rey shook her head. "Luke and Leia share a bond. They're twins, not … husband and wife. It's … it's _a bond_. I said it was _like_ marriage because I didn't know how else to explain it. If you'll recall, we were being fired upon at the time!"

"Yeah, yeah," Poe said, calming. "I know. It's fine. But you said it _was_ marriage."

"I don't remember _exactly_ what I said," Rey said.

"I was married due to a verbal misunderstanding during combat," Hux mused. "Lovely."

"It's not like that," Poe said to him.

"So you're _both_ married," Rose said.

"Don't sound so astonished," Hux said. "So are you."

"OH!" Finn leaned back and grimaced. "You _did!_" he hissed, then continued normally, "I wondered …"

The color drained from Rose's face as she turned to look at Finn. "You wondered? What?"

"Oh, you're not?" Hux said archly, flashing a grin. Perhaps an evil one.

"We _weren't_," Finn said.

"I can reverse it," Hux said, chuckling now.

Half breathless, struggling to get the words out, Rose said, "They were quarters for married officers because … because _we_ were married officers …" She gulped.

Kaydel said with a laugh, "I don't think _I_ got married last night. Did I?"

"Not to my knowledge," Hux said. But his eyes briefly slid over to where Lady stood at the door. The stormtrooper with her stared at the lieutenant.

"Eyes forward, Major," she told him. He turned to face the room.

Kaydel looked back at Hux. She didn't say anything. C'ai said, "I slept alone and I remain unmarried." Chewbacca spoke, probably about his marital status. C'ai asked, "Is that normal for your people?" Chewbacca had more to say. C'ai nodded to his words.

Quietly, Rose asked Finn, "Did you know we- No, you didn't know. You said you didn't. But you thought- You knew he might? Maybe?"

"Uh, yeah, maybe," Finn said. "But it was late and it didn't seem important."

Kaydel coughed. Rose said, "Marrying me didn't seem important?"

"Whoa," Poe said warningly. He put a hand on Finn's arm. "Buddy."

"I did not say that!" Finn said in alarm. "Okay, I said it, but I didn't mean it."

"You didn't mean it?" Rose asked.

"Worse," Poe said, laughing now. He took his hand back and shook his head.

Rose put her face in her hands. She started crying. "I'm sorry. It's just too much. I don't-"

Finn put his arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean … I don't know. It's important. It's so important. It's super important."

Poe struggled to put on a serious face.

"It's fine," Rose said, trying to regain her composure. She dabbed at herself with her napkin. Kaydel rubbed her back on the opposite side, her hand lower than Finn's arm. "It's fine," Rose repeated. "It was just … sudden."

"I _can_ reverse it," Hux said. "All it entails is the ship commander logging it into record. As Finn tried to say earlier, it's just a matter of paperwork."

She shook her head, then stopped and looked at Finn, her eyes wide. "Do you want it … reversed?"

"I … um … I … I'm fine," Finn managed.

Poe said, "You guys should probably take some time and talk about it privately. You know. You don't have to decide something like that right now. Out here. In front of everyone."

Hux snorted softly. "Unlike some of us."

Poe leaned over and kissed Hux on the cheek. "We already had our talk this morning, didn't we, babe?" Hux colored, made a few faces, and couldn't find words. Poe looked cheerily around the table. "Alright. Any other surprise declarations we need to make? We were stranded together for a week, sleeping on the same floor, fighting together, everyone sharing the same refresher. Half of us are married now. You'd think we wouldn't have any secrets left."

Rey cleared her throat. Kylo gave her a sidelong glance.

"What?" Poe said after a beat.

Rey sighed again.

"What?" Poe repeated.

"So, well, um," Rey said. "The bond didn't quite work right. It's not just between you and Hux, but between us, too." She gestured between herself and Kylo.

Poe blinked at her.

Finn said, "You said there was already a bond between you. So you're saying now there's something different?"

Hux said acidly, "That's how he was able to read my mind so easily just a moment ago."

"Oooh," Poe said with a nod. "You're right."

"And why she was so quick to deny that a bond equals marriage," Hux said, still in the same tone.

Poe nodded again. "Got it. It's all making sense now."

Rey rubbed her forehead.

Finn said, "Let me get this straight – all four of you are bonded to each other? What does that mean?"

"It's a bridge between people," Hux said when Rey and Kylo both were mum on the subject. "A link between life essences. A resonance in the Force."

Kylo shot him a narrow-eyed look, then went back to eating. Poe asked the obvious question. "How do you know that? I mean, are you sure of that?"

Hux said, "Sidious used the emotional ties I had with my crew to torment me. This intentional bond these two created is much stronger. We've felt it between us." Poe nodded and tilted his head as he lofted his brows in a facial shrug. Hux went on, "So we now have this sort of tie to _them_. I understand what it feels like because I've spent several nights having much weaker ones exploited."

"It _is_ a marriage," Poe said decisively to Rey. "To you and Kylo."

"You did?" Hux asked, looking at Poe.

"You did not," Kylo grumbled, also looking at Poe.

"Didn't … what?" Finn asked.

Rey said, "Poe thought, 'I knew it.'" She turned to Kylo. "He did think about it yesterday when I was going to make the bond. I was reading his mind at the time." Kylo grumbled again, this time inarticulately. He pushed his plate away, done eating.

Finn asked, "Are there any _other_ announcements?" He looked around the table.

Rey and Kylo said, in unison, "No."

Poe rubbed the lower part of his face and ended holding his chin as he looked at the two of them.

Kaydel said, "Oh, like that doesn't sound guilty at all."

"No," Rey repeated. "Nothing. Private stuff. Between Kylo and me."

"Ah," Poe said. "Gotcha."

"She's not _pregnant_!" Kylo snapped at Poe.

"I didn't say anything!" Poe said guiltily as he put his hands up.

Kylo growled, stood from the table, and paced.

Rey said, "It's going to take a while for us to adjust."

"I've always been able to hear everyone," Kylo ranted. "In the next compartment. Down the hall. Fucking. Gossiping. Rehearsing their stories so they can _lie_ to people. Dark thoughts are the loudest!" He bared his teeth.

"Uh …" Poe said, "I'll try not to think." He caught himself. "Wait, fucking?"

"We … disconnected from the Force," Rey said quickly.

Hux blinked several times.

Poe said slowly, "But you saw enough to know you needed to disconnect?"

Rose asked in a small voice, "Are you still … disconnected?"

"If they were, they wouldn't be reading our minds right now," Hux said.

"Oh," Rose said softly. "Point."

Poe said, "Well, uh, _we_ didn't hear anything." He indicated himself and Hux.

"That's because you're not telepaths and you don't have any control," Kylo said. He stopped behind his chair, holding the top of it in both hands. Chewbacca looked up at him briefly.

"Okay," Poe said evenly. "One-way voyeurism. Got it."

"We weren't voyuering," Rey objected.

"How would we know?" Hux asked.

Poe snorted and waved a hand breezily. "Okay. Fine. Whatever. Maybe it's not even a problem. Watch whatever you want. Maybe you'll learn something. We're all adults here."

Chewbacca barked a laugh.

"If only in a literal sense," C'ai allowed.

"Pretty normal human adult behavior," Rose said quietly, with a shrug. Poe laughed wryly.

"Any other announcements? That was it?" Finn looked around the table. "If everyone's done eating, we should clear off the plates and get to work. We came here for a reason, right?" He turned to Hux. "You need a support staff. _We_ are the support staff."

"Provisionally," Hux hedged. But he allowed it.

"The first topic of business," Kylo said from where he still stood behind his chair, "is what you thought earlier." He turned to Hux.

Hux glowered. "They're in storage. It doesn't matter."

"What?" Finn asked. "Who?"

"The people who were tortured to death," Rose said, connecting the dots.

There was a brief moment of silence around the table before Poe asked, "They're in storage?"

Hux sighed. "Pryde had them put in the morgue rather than immediately processing them for reclamation – the people killed by Sidious. He didn't explain why but I would presume a level of uncertainty involved in serving someone who is, himself, dead, and possessed of unexplained magical powers. Or perhaps it was a verbal or implied order – whichever, the reason wasn't logged."

"They need to be-" Rose started, then paused before asking, "What funeral customs does the First Order observe?"

"None," Hux said. "We're not sentimental that way."

"You remember the dead," Poe said. "The heroes at least. You mentioned that in the promotion ceremony."

"What?"

Poe said, "'A name to be remembered by'? 'Champions of the Order'?"

Hux looked thoughtful.

"Maybe you need to have a rite," Kaydel said, "for people who leave the Order."

"The only honorable way out is death," Hux said. It was almost a mumble. He was thinking.

"The Resistance has an observance," Rose said. "We had one for everyone who died over D'Qar. And later, after Crait. It wasn't elaborate, but it helps people to know they're remembered."

"I don't think it helps the dead at all," Hux said.

"I could ask them," Rey said. Everyone looked at her in surprise. "I can."

"The dead speak?" Hux asked. "Other than Sidious?"

"You heard them," she said, looking at him disbelievingly. "You spoke to them!"

He shrugged. "I was experiencing a great many things at that point. Which of them were real is … unclear to me."

Rose asked Rey, "You can talk to the dead through the Force? Any dead?"

Rey sighed. "I don't know. I can talk to Luke. Or, I have talked to Luke. I've never tried reaching out to them myself. But I could try."

"That would be a start," C'ai said. "In the meantime, sentimentality is something the First Order needs." Chewbacca said something lengthy. C'ai nodded. "And that thing which is erroneously called 'humanity', but is more a reverence for life and all the forms it takes."

"A little reverence might be what's needed," Poe said. "First the ones Sidious killed, then the people you lost at Crait, then Hosnia. You said that was the most important thing to do."

"That is … _millions_," Hux said.

"Billions," Kaydel corrected. "Billions died in the Hosnian system."

"Enough to bring back Darth Sidious," Kylo added.

Kaydel leaned forward to say, "And if you think the Battle of Crait isn't _still_ effecting your people, then you haven't been paying attention. It's another wound. It's just as personal to them as losing your 'support staff' was to you." Hux opened his mouth to object, but Kaydel cut him off with, "If they didn't mean anything to you, then why haven't you been able to move on and plan for the future?"

Hux's mouth snapped shut.

"We'll help you," Rey said.

"Just rounding off the sharp edges," Poe said gently, putting a hand on Hux's forearm. "The Order has a tradition for eating. You can add one for memorials, too."

"We should add one for weddings while we're at it," Rose muttered. Finn chuckled and patted her arm.

"We are besieged by formalities," Hux complained, but he didn't sound genuine about it.

"Just another set of standard protocols," Poe said. "You guys like protocols, right?" He looked between Hux, Finn, and Kylo. All of them shrugged one way or another. "Let's get to work, then."


	126. Leia 3

[Leia]

* * *

"I have to go."

"To … to where?" Lando asked.

"To them. I understand now." She swallowed thickly.

"To them? To the First Order? You can't just fly in and visit. You are the leader of the Resistance. _Well-known_," he told her with emphasis on that last. "You've been sending out your personal code across the galaxy trying to rouse people against them."

"I know. That's why I have to go." She turned to Lando. "I asked Han to bring our son home. But there's no home for him to come back to. Instead of watching people leave, I need to go where they are." She touched the table pensively, thinking about how much time she'd lost and how much more she'd lost than just time. "Besides, I live in a military base, Lando. He's more at home _there_, where he's welcomed."

"I don't think he's welcomed. They kicked him out."

"They haven't kicked him out a second time." She gestured to the intelligence report they'd both read. Part of it was the skimpy, obviously monitored message from Kaydel, but there was no message from anyone else who had been on the team and Kaydel hadn't used any of the code words to indicate crisis. "He can go where he pleases. Rey is with him. Even Finn and Rose are with him and _free_. None of them have come back. All we have from them directly is one message that Sidious has been stopped and they're wrapping up loose ends!" She snorted.

"You don't have diplomatic immunity with the First Order, Leia. If you go there, you're turning yourself in. The Resistance will be over."

"And why is that? When did it become about me? Was it when I made it about Luke? Why do we matter so much? We're just two people."

"You're a princess."

"Alderaan has been gone for decades."

"You're a symbol."

"I've _been_ a symbol, Lando. And as you reminded me, I'm also a mother."

He pursed his lips and said nothing. Was that the hint of a smile?

She went on, "If the First Order is truly evil, then the rebellion will happen with or without me, just like it did when I was a child. Every corner of the galaxy rose up against the emperor. Why have so few answered my call this time?"

Lando shrugged and acted like he was looking for an answer, but she was beginning to think it was only an act. "They're … they're probably just waiting to see what happens next. No one wants to be the first to find out Starkiller Base wasn't a one-off. Even the emperor had a second Death Star."

"There is no second Starkiller Base."

"You can't know that. No one can know that."

"_I_ know it. I feel it. It's in the Force, which I never relied on before now, but I can feel it pulling at me every day and every night since Luke passed." She sighed. "I have to go see him before it's too late."

"You saw Kylo just last week. And now you know he's alive and well." He waved at the intelligence report. "He'll find his way back."

"It's not on him to do that. _I'm_ the one who sent him away. If we are to be a family, _I have to do this_."

* * *

Leia walked down the _Falcon_'s ramp alone, and slowly. Her balance wasn't as good as it had once been, the last time she'd skittered up this ramp while in the hangar of an imperial star destroyer. And they would have to be in an imperial one, wouldn't they? With all the ships available to the First Order, Kylo's party had somehow ended up on one just a single model later than the one she'd been brought to after being captured over Tatooine … the one she'd been on when Alderaan had been destroyed.

In the hangar bay was a surprising gathering. General Hux was at the head, which was foolish of him. As the de facto leader of the Order, he should have left her to be met by a security detail and aides, no matter whether he believed her or not about her peaceful intentions. It would be so easy for her visit to be a trap – the beloved old freighter could disguise a bomb big enough to take out the forward third of the imperial destroyer, him and his staff among the victims.

But she hadn't brought fire and destruction with her this time. Next to Hux stood Commander Dameron. He was dressed in what she assumed was the available civilian clothes. At least he wasn't in First Order uniform, which was more than could be said for Finn and Rose. Chewbacca and C'ai were the same as always. Kaydel, too, was dressed as she'd been the last time Leia had seen her. Her hair was different – messily done in a style that caught Leia's eyes for what it implied. There was an honor guard of stormtroopers, but no more than that.

Her son was … well. He was tall like his grandfather (nearly everyone was tall to her, but he'd loomed larger than most). Kylo was still dressed in the First Order outfit he'd insisted on wearing when he left on the espionage mission. Next to him stood Rey, nervous but resolute, with her hair down in a loose, flowing style that was regarded as indecent on more conservative worlds. For a brief moment on D'Qar, it had seemed like Rey was part of the Resistance. She'd been slipping away every day since then.

But this was a poor way to think, Leia knew. 'Us and them' wasn't going to work. She walked to them with measured steps. No one came forward to greet her. Every one of them, even Hux, was waiting for her. She locked eyes with her son as she approached. Hux and Poe stepped out of the way when it was clear who she was going to.

"Kylo."

"Mother."

He was stiff and reserved. How had she not seen the wounded way he looked at her? Oh yes, it was because she'd barely seen him since he was a child. Gently, earnestly, Leia said, "When I was on D'Qar, I told your father I should have never sent you to Luke. Since then … I've found out how right that instinct was."

"But you still did," Kylo said, a mix of sulky and defiant, calling her on words he must have found self-congratulatory instead of a confession of error on her part. "I assume this conversation with him was immediately before sending him to blow up the planet I was on."

She sighed. There was that, too. This was why she'd avoided conversation with him on the base. But the time for avoiding conversation was over. "That was … a military decision."

Kylo's expression turned even more displeased. He glared over the top of her head at someone behind her. She turned. It was Hux, who told Kylo, "Stop reading my mind if you don't like what's there."

"She's not your mother-in-law," Kylo said through his teeth.

"That depends on your cultural outlook," Hux said blithely.

She looked between Kylo and Hux, flummoxed. "You married _General Hux_?"

Poe burst out laughing. Rey turned scarlet. Kylo shut his eyes, took in a deep breath, and let it out. Hux looked pleased. The First Order general stepped forward. "It was not his intention."

"But …" She looked to Kylo. "It happened?"

Rey squeaked, "It's complicated."

Poe stuck his hand up. "I have dibs on telling this story. Plus, you're not going to get the full version from anyone else."

Hux huffed. "You think I would lie? I'm more truthful than you are." He stood taller and puffed out his chest. Leia was still trying to wrap her mind around the situation. If Hux thought she was his mother-in-law, then that meant he thought he was her son-in-law. And he was trying to ingratiate himself, right in front of her eyes.

Kaydel, ever the voice of reason, said, "The conference room should be ready to receive us."

"Yes," Hux said. "Let's. The repair crews need to return to their work."

The walk there was quiet. Leia's head was spinning. She'd been so certain Ben (well, Kylo) was interested in Rey. He still seemed to be. Rey's hairstyle said a lot, as did the way she walked next to Kylo. As far as that went, Poe was at Hux's side and while he was often very close with people, a few small motions had her wondering if there was more there. Anything between Kylo and Hux had to be purely political, then, but why would her son stoop to that? Had he done it to end the war with the Resistance? _Had he done it to save her?_

The table was round, broken twice to provide entry to the middle where a holo-projector stood, currently not in use. She took her seat first and watched how everyone else arranged themselves.

Kylo, Rey, Poe, and Hux fell in on her right with Kylo, to her surprise, choosing to sit next to her. Rey and Poe were between himself and Hux, which was peculiar for supposed spouses to avoid sitting next to one another. Kaydel sat to her left. Then there was a break in the table with Rose and Finn beyond it, with C'ai past Finn and Chewbacca on the other side of him. There were several empty seats and the other break between the Wookiee and General Hux. Only two of their stormtrooper escort stayed in the room with them, along with a stocky officer who looked more like a trooper than the usual willowy imperial.

When they were settled, she turned to Hux. "I will be much easier for me to speak if our discussion here is confidential." She glanced over at the door guard.

Hux gestured. The troopers and officer left. Leia turned to Poe when Hux did not take immediate control of the meeting. "Is this a good time for your story? I'm dying to hear it."

Poe breathed out heavily. Hux let him speak freely. Poe said, "Ah, yeah. Well, let's see. We came on board the _Finalizer_, got what we came for, and picked up General Hux and some troopers at the same time. We stole one of their shuttles to leave-"

"I was on the shuttle," Hux broke in. "You were flying it for me. That's not theft."

"Okay. We crashed. Spent a week or so getting the shuttle flyable again, then got caught by Sidious the moment we broke atmo. He tried to soul-suck Hux here. Rey, uh, created a bond in the Force-"

"It wasn't just _me_," Rey said.

"Okay, Rey and Kylo created a bond between Hux and I, but due to … um, circumstances?" Poe looked to Rey for help, but she only shrugged. Poe continued. "All four of us ended up party to the bond. And I thought we were married. So, um …" He glanced at Hux before amending, "I _am_ married. I mean, we got married. Hux and I. And, uh, he … well, in the First Order, the ship commander can marry whoever consents to it so Rose and Finn got married too, and-" He stopped there, looking at Rey and Kylo.

A very long silence settled around the table until Kylo finally said, as though the words were being dragged from him, "I thought you … needed to be involved … if I married." He glanced so briefly at Leia that she wasn't entirely sure he meant her. Then it sunk in - he wanted her blessing, no matter how much he was pretending family didn't matter to him.

Leia did a quick mental rundown of what she'd been told. "So he _didn't_ marry General Hux?"

"Not exactly," Poe said. "No."

Hux shrugged. "Under the interpretation that those unions created by the Force constitute marriages, then we are. Under the First Order rules, we are not."

A curiously soft expression graced Poe's face and he put a hand on Hux's forearm. Rey sniffed. Kylo dipped his head. Hux said, "It is also highly irritating that my spouse's thoughts are overheard by these two and I have no idea what he's thinking."

"You know how he's feeling," Kylo said.

Hux was quiet for a long beat, then put his hand over Poe's. Affectionately. "I do."

Poe said, "I was just thinking you really like being married to people. And I'm proud to be part of that."

Hux exhaled in an attempt at a huff that came out as a sigh.

"Also," Poe said, "if you focus, I'm sure you can read me. We get each other's thoughts sometimes."

"This is … a situation full of distractions," Hux said.

Poe nodded and turned to Leia. "Married, not married, we're a family now. Also, um, Finn and Rose joined the First Order and we all decided to work together on reforming galactic governance."

Chewbacca expressed his lack of interest in this last subject, but that, well, he just happened to be here hanging out with his friends while they did their thing. Leia smiled at him. "As always, I'm grateful you looked after them." He made a pleased noise.

She turned back to Poe. "Reforming galactic governance?"

"Yeah," Poe said. "We're trying to make a plan on how to run things."

"To run … what?"

"Uh … the galaxy."

"The whole galaxy?"

"Yeah."

She touched her forehead with the fingertips of one hand, then smiled up at him. "I suppose this is what I get for encouraging you to be bold and do your own thing." Did they have any idea how vast and difficult this task was? She looked around the room, seeing earnest young faces, who hadn't entirely lost their idealism or hope. It was touching.

Next to her, Kaydel said, "We're actually going slow and it's really good that you're here. You could help."

Hux snorted. "The leader of the Resistance, 'helping'?"

"She's your mother-in-law," Poe said, nudging him with a quick, disarming grin. "Be nice."

"We didn't ask for help," Kylo grumbled at the same time.

"She knows what she's doing," Kaydel said in heated defense of Leia. "More than we do."

She didn't need to be defended. "Who did your hair?" Leia said to Kaydel.

"What?" the woman looked thrown off-track, as Leia had intended.

Leia gestured. "Your hairstyle. It takes two sets of hands to do braids interwoven like that and a droid would have done them better. Someone helped you."

"Um …" Kaydel's eyes darted toward the door. "Um, one of the … an officer."

Leia nodded slowly. She turned back toward Hux. "Everyone here is co-opted, then. There is no 'Resistance' anymore, so you don't have to worry about me being their leader." There was silence around the table. She would have thought it would have pained her to say such a thing, but instead, she felt relief. What few people had been left at the base had been disbanded anyway after the disappearance of Poe's mission group. Strategically, they were safer dispersed, but functionally, it meant there was no one she needed to say good-bye to. The base was already shuttered.

Finally, C'ai said, "I am not co-opted, but I do not wish to fight these people if they are willing to work with us to find a better way."

She nodded. "I agree." She turned to Hux, "The whole galaxy is holding its breath after what you did to the Hosnian system. They can't fight back yet, but they will be able to eventually."

"That's … That's fine," Hux said. "I don't want to fight them. I want to arrange something where we aren't fighting. For the First Order to_ win_ we have to have an end to the war."

"Or just declare peace," Kylo said in what others took as a joke.

"Declaring peace would be a start," Leia said to Hux. "I've listened to some of your recent announcements within the Order. They were close, but you need to start talking to the galaxy at large. I could help you with the words you need to use to get that message across, if that's what you want."

There was silence from Hux and Kylo. Rey said, "Yes, that's good. We need that. You know people, I'm sure."

Leia tilted her head and said ruefully, "They don't answer my calls anymore, but yeah, I know people."

"There's another thing," Poe said, reluctance in his voice.

"What's that?"

"About Hosnia …" He glanced at Hux.

Hux said, "Sidious was fueled by the restless dead of the Hosnian system. I took an oath to … give them closure."

Poe nodded. "How do we do that?"

She waited a few beats before saying, "You're looking at me like I have the answer to that."

"What happened after Alderaan?" It was Kylo who asked. His voice was careful.

She looked to him. She'd never discussed Alderaan with him, except in the most vague of terms when he was a child. Did he have a right to know what that meant to her? He held her gaze for a moment before looking away. She looked back to Hux. "You're telling me you pulled the trigger on an entire star system and now you're suffering consequences for it?"

"Not anymore," Hux said, his tone turning icy. He had correctly read her anger. She didn't try to hide it. He looked so much like a young Tarkin to her. It was hard to see the man he really was.

Poe explained, "The whole galaxy almost suffered consequences for it. A bunch of people are dead and Sidious was just getting started."

Rey added, "If we don't carry this out, I don't know that he'll stay gone. Luke, himself, charged us with finding a solution."

"Luke?"

"He's dead," Poe said, as though this called into question the truth of what Rey had said.

"Sidious was also dead," Rey said patiently.

Poe shrugged. "Okay, yeah. It's just that I'm still not used to dead people getting to have input on things."

Leia sighed. "Well, you'd better get used to it." Poe gave an ambivalently agreeable head wobble. She looked to Rey. "_Luke_ said you had to do this?"

"Yes," Rey answered. "It wasn't Hux's idea."

"Yes, it was," Hux snapped irritably. Poe shushed him. Hux turned to him and said, "It-" but Poe shushed him again.

Leia waited a moment to see if that would take. Tarkin would have never let someone else manage him. There was hope. "So you want to know how to deal with the Hosnian system. Have you tried a funeral?"

Hux looked at Poe, who made a motion that yes, it was okay for Hux to speak. "No."

"Have you let anyone else have a funeral? Visit the site? Build a memorial? Recite their names?"

"Recite their names?" Hux said. "There were billions …"

"She's just throwing out ideas here," Poe said.

Hux waved his hand dismissively. "No, actually, we could. If every active duty member of the First Order was assigned a thousand names and they stood vigil over each one for one minute, it would only take a few days."

Poe blinked at him. "Okay."

"I don't know where we'd get the names, though," Hux said.

Rose said, "Why don't we try everything? If we don't know what will work, and we can't tell when it's worked, but it's absolutely vital that we find _something_ that works, then let's try all of it."

"Everything that is feasible," Hux said.

"You built a planet-killer," Rose said harshly, and Leia was glad to hear someone else who could relate to her feelings. "Use _that_ as your benchmark for feasibility."

Again, to Leia's surprise, Hux accepted the direction with equanimity.

Leia said, "It … I can tell you as a survivor of Alderaan, what would have mattered to me wasn't that the galaxy had known exactly how to address that … horror. I don't know that there is a right way. But it would have helped if they'd tried to do _something_. What little that was done … wasn't enough."

"Then we do something," Hux said, "we do a lot of it, and we keep trying until it works."


	127. Lando 2

[Lando]

* * *

Lando, Leia, and Chewbacca watched from their place in the family's section as the three couples, newly married on Naboo, made their way around the circuit of the ballroom prior to the first dance. Kes Dameron was off to the side talking with a few somewhat distant relatives of Rose who had been able to attend.

"You know," Lando said, "looking at things like this makes me think I should have gotten married."

"It's not all it's cracked up to be," Leia said with a heavy sigh. "It can be tough. Especially for people like us."

"Hm," he said. "How about you, Chewie? You ever seen anyone special you'd like to spend more time with?"

Chewbacca had a lot to say about that, mainly that he had a mate and Wookiees had tribes rather than families. Also, he was planning to return to his home world now that the last Solo had found his own tribe.

"Oh really?" Lando answered with a grin. "Good for you. It's about time. I hear Kashyyyk is looking good these days. I just saw a holo the other day about that. The replanting and stuff? You'll have to tell me what it looks like in person."

Chewbacca whuffed an agreement.

Leia said, "The holo networks are putting a lot of emphasis on rebuilding and recovery. That's not a coincidence."

"Oh yeah? I didn't think it was," Lando said. "And not a coincidence that there's all kinds of disruptions going on in the tibana market. Up and down and never sideways. I can't tell what's going to happen with that. It goes mainly into blasters and the First Order's stopped placing new orders with the big dealers, so no one's quite sure what's going to happen. If that keeps up, Cloud City's going to lose its cachet."

She chuckled. "Maybe you could come here and oversee Villa Varynko or Convergence. You could make an entire resort area out of those places."

"Did the Naboo finally decide that Armitage inherits Palpatine's stuff?"

"I don't think they've gone that far, but they're in talks. Everything was seized by the government and dispersed thirty years ago, but the Lake Country estates belong to their respective royal houses in perpetuity. Just like I'm the extant matriarch of Naberrie, Armitage is the patriarch of House Palpatine."

"Who was it before him?"

"A cousin. The Naboo law favors direct descent." The three couples had finished their circuit and were now dancing. Rey and Kylo took to it with grace and style, practically floating across the dance floor. Poe and Hux looked like they had dutifully practiced and were reasonably in step with one another. Rose and Finn started off stiff and clumsy, soon dissolving into a laughing mess.

"Even in the case of clones?" he asked.

"They're still arguing about that. They allow adoption and medically-assisted fertilization or gestation, so they don't have good grounds to reject his claim."

"Sounds like you're well-informed about it."

"He came to me for advice," Leia said. "Given what I went through with Alderaan and Birren. And here, on Naboo, with House Naberrie."

"Hux came to you for advice?"

She smiled thinly at him. "I know. What's the galaxy coming to?" She sighed. "I think he likes me more than my own son. I only did the Naberrie part for the benefit of-" She hesitated, giving Lando an appraising look he recognized as her deciding if she trusted him. She finished the statement. "For the benefit of the child. Or children."

"Rey …? She's pregnant? Or are you just planning?"

Leia nodded. "She's not showing yet, but she will be soon." She smiled softly.

"Congratulations, _grandmother_."

She whacked him playfully on the arm. But then said, "I never thought I'd see the day when I held my own grandchild in my arms. I'm looking forward to it more than anything."

"I'll bet you are." He looked to Chewbacca. "You already knew, didn't you?" Chewie said some things. "What? You-? You told _her_? You smelled it? Wookiees can smell that?" He was astonished. Chewie told him more. "Okay, okay, yeah, I guess I'm too … humanocentric about things. Fine."

"After that," Leia said, "I will rest."

"You've earned it," Lando said. But there was something about her comment that rubbed him the wrong way. "You sound so final with that. It's not the first thing you've said that sounded," morbid, "fatalistic."

"My fate was decided when Luke passed."

"What does that mean?"

"I'm still figuring that out."

"Hm." He let it go. The rest of the crowd was now joining in on the dance floor, filling the space with riotous colors and exuberant dancers. It was a good show and Lando had a practiced eye for such things.

"To be young again," Leia said with a sigh.

He nodded. "The galaxy needs symbols, Princess. This is what we need."

She nodded, too, her gaze distant and thoughtful. "You saw this coming, didn't you?" she mused.

"I made a lucky bet." Which wasn't entirely true. The only way to truly come out on top when gambling was to cheat. Luck had little to do with it. "I'm not going to pass up a chance to party. Now or ever." He reached over and took Leia's hand like a gentleman intending to kiss it. "Would you grant me a dance, your highness?"

She exhaled heavily. "I will."


	128. Teller 5, Epilogue

[Teller]

[Epilogue]

* * *

Preliminary survey of planet QB-2341, Tenten's Rest as provided by the Republic Survey Ship _Curiosity_ under the command of Captain Teller:

The planet is located in a district of space commonly called 'Dead Space' due to featuring uninhabitable or barely habitable worlds in star systems peculiarly devoid of useful resources. Rumors abound that this area was once the heart of an empire that burned itself out and possibly migrated elsewhere some tens of thousands of years ago. It is largely unmapped and untraveled, even by those whose own systems border the region.

Tenten's Rest is one of the few planets that sustains life, although this life is not sentient in the manner we typically define sentience. The planet is host to fifty-four large mycozoids, ranging in size from half a million to fifty thousand square kilometers and most more than a hundred meters thick. This makes them among the largest creatures known. They cover the majority of the planetary surface and contain within their mass the entirety of the planet's liquid water. There are a few hundred smaller mycozoids of the same type which exist around the fringes and interstitial spaces.

These creatures subsist mainly on energy derived from photosynthesis, geothermal sources, and mineral processing. Each attempts to monopolize these resources by covering as much surface area as possible. Their reproductive process is an extension of this. They use a modified form of mitosis. The creature divides itself horizontally, separating the upper layer of itself. This upper layer uses a series of tentacle-like papillae to move itself sideways, seeking new territory to cover.

How they choose direction is unclear, but I would assume it has to do with relative strength of neighboring mycozoids and access to resources. This top layer attempts to settle on the new area, which is invariably inhabited by another mycozoid. Battle is then joined.

As we saw, these mycozoids come equipped with spines that we saw as tree trunks and later believed to be hairs. The spines are unusually mobile and are used to spear intruding mycozoids. Through a combination of twisting, shaking, and lashing, attacking mycozoids can sometimes be destroyed, torn apart and rendered inert.

If this defense fails, the attacker settles over the existing mycozoid, smothers it, and begins a digestive process that eventually extends all the way to the roots of the victim. Meanwhile, the original source of the attacker begins to regrow the top layer. It is vulnerable during this regrowth period, which makes the choice of direction of attack when splitting into a complicated strategic decision – attack the weakest neighbor and a stronger one might destroy the parent while the child lives; attack the strongest neighbor and if the attack fails, the child and parent might both perish.

The migration and politics of the mycozoids are the main expression of life on the planet. Given their total dominance of the planetary surface, the only other life forms that exist in this narrow ecology are parasitical or in symbiosis with them. The crab-like 'bugs' we encountered are opportunistic scavengers, feeding on damaged mycozoid tissue, other parasites, and occasionally preying directly on the mycozoids.

Predation on the mycozoids is restricted to the largest of the scavengers, as the spines have significant mobility and can be used as lashes against anything causing damage. Against smaller, less thickly-shelled scavengers, this retaliation can be fatal. The larger ones fare better. The mycozoids have a high tolerance for damage and normally only react strongly when the damage is ongoing. When they do react, they mobilize the spines in a large area around the damage, performing something like a shivering motion while the spines strike the surface with enough force to kill all but the largest of scavengers.

The bodies of the mycozoids are riddled with minerals and heavy metals used in processing or digesting the planetary crust. The parasites feature this as well, to the point that any prolonged consumption of either as a food source would prove lethal to human life.

There is nothing on Tenten's Rest of economic significance – no historical sites, no edible fauna, no natural resources that would be easy to harvest. The mycozoids themselves are intriguing, but not useful. The planet is not positioned favorably for use as a transportation or communication hub. It is noted in our records as the final resting place of Weapons Specialist TN-1017, Ten-ten.

Detailed readings will be transmitted shortly. We will continue our survey in this region, with the intent of discovering the truth about what happened to the civilizations which must have been in this area. Any evidence of them on this world has long since been devoured by the creatures that remain.


End file.
